


Entwined Sorcery

by FullmetalDetective (MusicianInTraining)



Series: Entwined Sorcery [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Entwined Sorcery, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 107,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicianInTraining/pseuds/FullmetalDetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their destinies crossed; two paths entangled; two goals became one. One of them is the Chosen One, the other a prodigy unlike any other. They had different goals, though they lead similar lives...<br/>Beginning from HP1, the stories of Edward Elric and Harry Potter will never be the same...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Hidden Stone

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on fanfiction.net, so I'm just moving it over to this site now. Hope you all enjoy it as much as the ff.net people did. :)
> 
> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two wizards take great care in hiding an object that would someday either save the entirety of the Wizarding World...or destroy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Prologue: The Hidden Stone~

 

Albus Dumbledore peered into the quickly falling night as he stowed his wand away within his cloak, deciding that the sun had not yet set enough to interfere with his sight. Diagon Alley was relatively calm this Autumn's evening, and a few of the usually-lively shops were already closed up for the day...

Good thing Albus was not in the alley that eve to go shopping.

He stopped in front of Gringotts Bank and glanced around him, looking to see if anyone had followed him there. After looking behind him once more, he felt reassured that his business tonight was most certainly going to be done without an overtly curious audience trailing behind him. However, as he ambled towards the steps of the bank, he was halted by a large hand clamping onto his shoulder. Dumbledore smiled and turned:

"Nicholas Flamel, my good man! You haven't changed a bit."

Nicholas greeted his old friend with a smile as he replied:

"It has been far too long, Albus. Far too long."

"And so it has."

"Though I do wish our meeting was built upon a happier demeanor," the old alchemist spoke, his voice laced with a bit of regret as he held up the small parcel in his hand. "And I had planned to utilize this is so many righteous ways..."

"Ah, yes. Tis indeed a shame that a great piece of alchemy such as the Sorcerer's Stone must be locked up. But we must keep it away from Voldemort at all costs."

Flamel made a face at the name, and then said, "So you do not believe that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is truly defeated."

"No. He is out there. Waiting."

Flamel nodded in solemn understanding and gestured for Dumbledore to lead the way into the bank, following behind him closely.

"What became of the boy, Albus?" inquired Flamel as he slid a letter and his wand towards the goblin at the front desk.

"Harry left his home with nothing but a scar. He was sent to live with his aunt and uncle from his mother's side of the family. There he will remain until he become of age." Dumbledore shook his head as he boarded the cart with Flamel and the goblin.

"That poor boy, all alone in the world," Flamel said sadly.

"No, no, not _quite_ alone. _We_ are on his side, are we not?" Dumbledore pointed out.

"Well, of course, Albus! What other purpose do I have to locking up my precious stone?"

"None other than to protect The Boy Who Lived and the rest of the Wizarding World."

"No other reason would be grand enough," Flamel muttered under his breath. Dumbledore chuckled, patting his old friend on the back.

"And how is your wife, Nicholas?"

As the two skilled wizards caught up, the cart continued to travel deeper and deeper into the depths of the bank, the darkness becoming greater, and the candlelight getting dimmer. Suddenly, the fast cart came to a halt, and the goblin spoke in his raspy voice:

"Vault seven hundred and thirteen."

Hopping out of the cart, the goblin lifted a thin, hairy finger up to the door and stroked it gently. Dumbledore and Flamel waited patiently as the door slowly melted away, revealing an empty vault waiting to be filled. Dumbledore nodded once at Flamel, who slowly set his precious stone down inside of the vault and then, after taking one last wistful look at his life's work, reluctantly walked away from it. The goblin sealed the vault and gestured for them to get back into the cart.

"...it'll be safe and secure there, Nicholas."

"I know, I trust Gringotts enough. Doesn't make letting go of one's life's work any easier."

"I understand."

They rode in silence for a moment or so longer before Dumbledore asked:

"Say, have you from Hohenheim as of late?"

Flamel looked at Dumbledore questionably:

"Van Hohenheim? Well, last I heard from him he was headed back to Resembool to start a family."

"Oh, really?" Dumbledore said curiously.

"Yes, he actually wrote about a year ago. He said he and his wife had had a son and were expecting another."

"Hohenheim had a child? Didn't think that was possible," Dumbledore said incredulously.

"Neither did I," Flamel chuckled. "He hasn't written since, though. I do hope he is well."

"Yes, yes. Well, do let me know if you hear from him again, will you?"

Flamel raised an eyebrow at his friend:

"Well, of course, certainly. But may I inquire as to why you have such a sudden interest with Van Hohenheim, Albus?"

"Oh, it's nothing much, he came up in a recent conversation I had with Sybill Trelawney. I was simply wonderingly whatever became of him."

"Ah. Well, he never did like to stay in one place for too long, did he?"

They exited the cart and walked out the doors into the brisk night. Nicholas Flamel offered his hand to his friend.

"This is where we shall part now, I suppose."

"Yes, my endearing alchemist, now we must part."

Dumbledore took his friend's hand and shook it fervently.

"Do try to keep in touch. I am a very busy man, but I am never too busy for friends," Dumbledore said, giving Flamel a look from over his half-moon spectacles. The old wizard chuckled:

"I shall try to, that I shall. Until we meet again, farewell!"

"Goodbye, Nicholas!"

And with that Flamel dissapparated out of sight, leaving Dumbledore alone with his thoughts.

He strolled down the empty alleyway a bit, taking in the peacefulness of the night as he thought about the Sorcerer's Stone, a marvelous creation made by Flamel and himself, using Van Hohenheim alchemic theorems to bring it into being...Van Hohenheim...

_Hmm_ , Dumbledore thought to himself as he found himself at the other side of Diagon Alley. He looked back at Gringotts Bank once more as a realization of sorts struck him: _if he was in fact born last year, just as Nicholas said, then Hohenheim's son is approximately the same age as Harry Potter...hmm..._

~~*e.s.*~~


	2. Ten Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years after the prologue's mysterious events, two young boys recover from a tragedy by means of a family they had forgotten they had...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Chapter One: Ten Years Later~

 

"...Brother?"

Edward snored in Alphonse's face, his sleep undisturbed by his younger brother's talking. Alphonse was not about to be bested by Edward's beastly sleeping habits.

"Brother! Wake up!!"

"BAH!! Wha--what's going on? What happened??" Ed woke with a start, his groggy eyes looking into his brother's armor with fear. His abrupt awakening caused him to break into a small fit of coughing, and Al quickly raised his hands up to calm him down:

"Nothing, nothing, but breakfast's ready."

Ed glared at him for nearly a full minute before yawning hugely and shakily dragging himself out of bed. After sleepily slipping his pants on, he followed Al to the kitchen table, where Winry and Pinako Rockbell were setting down plates of warm, delicious-smelling food. Ed woke up immediately after catching a whiff of the mouth-watering sight and eagerly sat down at the table, fork and knife at the ready. Granny Pinako chuckled at the sight:

"Well, it's good to see you with such an appetite. It sure was strange to see you barely picking at your food right after your surgery."

Edward shot her a quick, pancake-stuffed smile and then quickly returned to shoveling food into his mouth. Pinako wagged a finger at him:

"Just don't eat it too fast! We don't want you coughing and throwing up again..."

She and Winry joined the brothers at the table, Winry's eyes doing a quick look-over of Ed's automail arm, double-checking that the new limb was working properly. It seemed to be fuctioning correctly, however his port wasn't looking too good. Even underneath his loose-fitting t-shirt, Winry could see that the stitching had re-opened during the night and a little blood could be seen on his collar. She pursed her lips, hoping that his leg was in better shape.

"Pass the eggs, will ya, Al?" Ed said, a piece of bacon hanging out of his mouth. Al handed him the plate of scrambled eggs wistfully, wishing that he too could partake in the consuming of Granny Pinako's tasty meal. But unfortunately for Alphonse, that was no longer an option for him. So he just sat back and watched his brother stuff his face.

"You done?" Winry asked Ed as she gathered the dirty plates up to take them to the sink. He scooped up his last two bites of eggs and then nodded, leaning back in his chair, his belly feeling happy and full of food.

"Thanks a lot, Granny!" Ed said as he lifted his arms to put them behind his head. He stopped abruptly as pain shot to his port, though, wincing slightly and gingerly lowering his arms. Al and Winry noticed this and looked at him in concern as Pinako gestured to the living room:

"...Let's have a look at that arm and leg."

"Ok," Edward said as he got up and made his way to the sofa, Alphonse trailing behind him.

"Your arm is bleeding, Brother."

Ed looked up at Al, then at his arm's port; he coughed once then said, "Nah, it's just dried blood from last night."

"Ok, then it _was_ bleeding. Still, that's bad. The stiches should've dissolved by now."

"It's just that one up by the shoulder that has kept needing re-stitching that's the problem, that's all. The rest of them are healed by now."

"Take off your pants."

Ed and Al looked back at the doorway where Winry was standing, first aid kit at hand. Realizing how bad what she had just said sounded; she blushed furiously, raising her voice in defensiveness:

"You know what I mean, you big dummy, I need to check on your leg!!"

"Sure, sure..." Ed said, doing as the scary mechanic said before he earned himself a wrench to the skull. Al giggled at their silly antics, moving over on the couch so that Winry could have enough room to properly examine her work.

"...ok, your leg and its port checks. Now, let's see the arm."

Ed slipped his shirt up and over his head, and Winry pursed her lips. The scarred skin around the automail was red and slightly puffy, the stitching on his shoulder incision caked with dried blood, just as Alphonse said. Winry blew a piece of hair out of her face and doused gauze with rubbing alcohol.

"Sheesh, Ed, what did you do to your shoulder _this_ time?"

"...Slept on it...?" Ed said innocently. "Maybe you should have Granny redo the stitching again."

"If we poke anymore holes into you you'll fall apart at the seams. No, this stitching will hold so long as you stop sleeping on your shoulder so roughly."

"It's not my fault," he whined. "Y'know my dreams aren't exactly peaceful."

Winry sighed:

"Yeah, I know..."

Close to five-and-a-half months had passed since that hellish day, and still the young Elric brothers continued to struggle to adapt to their punishments. Alphonse spent the nights alone and cold (figuratively speaking since his new form could not feel anything physically); Edward spent them drowning in his brother's and his own blood, the tears streaming relentlessly. The nightmares were never going to leave him be, he knew this. Still, that didn't stop him from waking up to screams of terror and hot, furious tears.

After the first month of automail rehabilitation Edward stupidly attempted to spar with his brother; this ended with his stiches ripping open and to him slumped onto the grass, throwing up half the blood in his body. Because of that, the vomiting began to occur more frequently, and his rehabilitation was set back even further than he had first wished it to be. Not only that but he received a long, harsh lecture from Pinako about how dangerous it was to rush the rehabilitation--"why, you still can barely _walk_ and you wanted to try to _fight_?!"--and how she was tired of seeing him hurt. It was hard enough that she had to be the one to cause him so much pain that week she spent connecting each and every one of his nerves to his metallic limbs.

"There, that should do it."

Winry set the bloody gauze down and turned back to the automail arm, taking hold of it and checking that there were no screws loose and no wires bent or tangled. It looked really good (if she did say so herself) and she nodded with satisfaction, letting go of the metal arm, allowing Ed to redress.

"Ok, everything seems to be in order. Just be gentle on that shoulder."

"Yeah, yeah," Edward waved her off, walking out of the living room.

~~*e.s.*~~

_..._

_...Al! Alphonse!! Alphonse?!_

_...damn! DAMN! How could this have happened?! It...it wasn't supposed to be like this...oh no..._

_HE'S GONE...!!_

_HE'S GONE, and it's all my fault! No, no--!_

_ALPHONSE!!!_

Edward jolted out of the nightmare, beads of sweat intermingling with his tears. Though he was sweating, however, he shivered, coughing as he pulled the blanket back up over him. His eyes darted around the cold, dark room, peering into each and every shadow fearfully. He tried to get his mind off of the nightmare, off of that feeling of dread, of guilt and loneliness...

He immediately calmed down a bit as he looked out the window and saw his brother sitting peacefully on the front porch, his metal head tilted upwards, looking towards the half-moon. Another tear slid down Edward's face as his mind played tricks on him; he slumped back down onto the pillow, his dreams empty of blood and filled with the image of his little brother's shining golden eyes reflecting the light of the moon.

_...I'm so sorry, Alphonse. This was all my fault._

~~*e.s.*~~

The following afternoon brought forth more sunshine and customers for the Rockbells. Ed and Al sat in the living room rather than out on the porch like they usually would due to the heat bothering Ed's still-healing ports. Ed was reading about the State Alchemist's Examination, his frown becoming deeper and deeper as he read on. Finally, he finished the pamphlet; after throwing it down onto the coffee table, he slumped back against the couch.

"...guess I'm going to have to wait 'til next year to even try for that."

"Yeah, 'cause you don't want to push yourself so hard that you end up getting hurt even worse," Alphonse appeased to him. Ed looked at his brother's armor.

"I just want to hurry up and get your body back. I don't want to waste any time on me when I could be getting closer and closer to finding the Philosopher's Stone."

"Ed, how do you even know that exists?"

"What, the stone? It definitely exists. There's too much evidence out there saying so to deny it's existence."

He looked down at his automail arm, wriggling his fingers, observing how the different wires and hinges work to make them do so.

"I'm going to start by researching more of the ancient texts for background information, and then I'll work my way up towards the more recent discoveries and first-hand accounts. It's gonna take time, which is why I want to become a State Alchemist as soon as possible; I don't want you to suffer more than you have to, Al."

Alphonse sighed:

"What if you don't pass the examination?"

Edward paused for a moment, still looking at his arm. What Al said was a good point, after all.

"...All the more reason to hurry up and heal. Practice makes perfect, right?"

"Right," Al nodded in agreement. Ed yawned hugely, stretching his arms up over his head.

"Careful," Pinako said from the doorway, cleaning off a wrench. Ed and Al gulped, making the old mechanic laugh.

"Not to worry, Winry's the only wrench-thrower around here. Hey, Ed, will you go grab the mail for me?"

"Shouldn't he stay out of the sun?" Alphonse said concernedly. "I'll go get it for you--"

"Nah, I'm fine, Al. The mailbox is just right out front, I won't be in the heat long."

"Plus he could probably use the fresh air," Pinako pointed out. Ed nodded in agreement, smiling up at Al.

"Come with me if you’re so worried!"

"I was planning on it even if you protested," Al said, following his big brother out the front door. Ed laughed, then coughed once, shaking his head. _Who's the big brother here?_ Ed thought it was him, but Alphonse was now not only now taller than him, but stronger also.

"Brother, look!"

Ed looked towards where Alphonse was pointing and raised his eyebrows in surprise; there, sitting atop the mailbox, was a small brown and white fluffy owl. It had its head tucked beneath its wing, obviously sleeping. Den barked at it once; when it did not react, however, he just yawned and slumped onto the ground next to the porch. The brothers approached the owl quietly so as not to wake it, observing it closely.

"What's an owl doing here?" Edward wondered aloud, staring at the sleeping creature.

"I don't know, but it sure it cute," Alphonse said happily. Edward's palm made contact with his own face.

"...We're not keeping it, Al."

"Aw, but brother--"

"NO," he said exasperatedly. "Granny Pinako wouldn't let us even if we asked, anyway!"

"But it looks lost, and hungry, and--"

"It's _sleeping_ , Al! The only thing it looks right now is _lazy_!"

"Don't talk about it like that, that's mean!"

Edward threw his hands in the air. _I give up! Just let him take it to Pinako, he'll see!!_ And with that he shook his head and opened the mailbox...or he at least attempted to.

"Shit; the lid's stuck."

Edward pulled once again, trying not to rock the mailbox too much so as not to wake the damned owl. No use; it was jammed good.

"Here, let me try."

"Ok, just don't shake it too much, Al."

Alphonse nodded, then turned and accidentally bumped into the mailbox. "Oops!" he said as the owl jolted awake. Ed's palm made contact with his face again.

"Dammit, Al, I said not to wake the bird!"

"I'm sorry, I'm still not used to being so _big_!"

"Just hurry up and open the mailbox before--HEY!!"

The owl had flown up and off of the mailbox by then and was now picking at Edward's bangs. As Ed waved his hands in front of his face in a futile effort trying to shoo the owl off, Alphonse looked back at the mailbox.

"...Hey, brother, look! The owl had a letter with her!"

"Oh, _great_ , so now you're saying that somebody actually _sent this creature_?!! GET AWAY, YOU DAMN BIRD!!!"

After one last peck at his head, the owl flew out of his face, landing on top of Al's shoulder.

"...stupid owl..." Ed muttered, grabbing the mailbox's handle with his automail arm and yanking with such force that the entire lid came off. "...DAMMIT!"

"Here, Ed, I'll fix it. Just get the mail out before you hurt yourself," Al said, trying not to laugh at his furious brother, who was glowering at the mailbox as if it had just struck out and punched him in the face. Once he had extracted all of the letters, Alphonse handed Ed the envelope that came with the owl and took the lid from him. Edward huffed and looked down at the letter:

Mr. E. Elric

The Second bedroom

Rockbell Prosthetic Limb Outfitters

Resembool,

Amestris

"...what the...what is this?"

"What is it, brother?"

Edward looked up at his brother and nearly smacked himself in the face again; that damn owl was still perched on his shoulder, occasionally pecking at his helmet. He shook his head, then showed Al the front of the envelope.

"...Who sent this? And how do they know where you _sleep_?"

"I don't know!" Edward said, feeling equally perplexed. "But I sure would like to find out!"

He turned the thick parchment envelope over; not only was there no return address nor stamp, but there was a dark purple wax seal on the envelope, an ornate capital 'H' surrounded by a lion, a raven, a badger and a snake.

"Hey, you two, what's taking so long?? Ed, you know you're not supposed to be outside in the heat of the day--Al, is that an owl?"

Ed and Al looked up to see Winry looking confused at the sight of the strange bird. Ed blew a piece of hair out of his face as he and his brother (with the owl still perched on his shoulder) made their way back into the house.

~~*e.s.*~~

"...And it was just sitting there on the mailbox?"

Edward and Alphonse nodded. Winry, who now had the owl on her arm, petted its feathers gently, smiling at its big round, black eyes.

"It sure is pretty."

Pinako nodded, looking back down at the letter Edward had received, specifically examining the purple seal on the back.

"Does it look familiar to you at all?" Edward asked. Pinako shook her head:

"Never seen it before in my life."

Ed huffed frustratingly; who the heck could've sent that letter? Pinako handed the mysterious thing back to him, saying as she did:

"Only way to find out is if you open the thing."

Ed nodded, peeling the wax seal away and extracting several letter-sized pieces of parchment from within the envelope:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

 

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

            Dear Mr. Elric,

                        We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts

            School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary

            books and equipment.

                        Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

           

            Yours sincerely,

            Minerva McGonagall

            Minerva McGonagall,

            _Deputy Headmistress_

 

Edward gaped at the letter in utter disbelief in the words on the page. Still not blinking, he looked at the barn owl still perched on Al's shoulder, then back at the letter, then at the letter once more.

"...the hell _is_ this??"

"What is it, brother?" Al asked, curiously looking over Ed's shoulder at the letter. He read the first few lines and said _"huh??"_ in the same confused manner that his older brother had. By now Granny and Winry were itching to find out what the letter said.

"Read it," Pinako said, puffing smoke from her pipe. Ed blinked finally, taking a deep breath as he recited the contents of the letter to everyone. When he was done, he set it down onto his lap, going through the other contents of the envelope.

"...Here's the supplies and book list... _Standard Book of Spells, A History of Magic_ \--the hell?!" he screeched yet again, not believing what he was reading. "This can't be for real, magic doesn't exist!"

"It's probably some kind of prank," Winry offered, raising an eyebrow at the letter. "What kind of name is Albus Dumbledore...?"

"A wizard's name," Alphonse said matter-of-factly, chuckling as he playfully ruffled the owl's feathers. Edward slapped his brother's armor:

"Stop that, Al, wizards don't exist! There's no such thing as magic!"

"How do _you_ know," Winry said mischievously, purposely trying to rile Ed up some more. Needless to say, it worked:

"No, that's stupid! It's science that makes the world go 'round! Alchemy! Not some dumb hocus-pocus crap--!!"

Edward doubled over after that last word into a fit of coughing; he covered his mouth with his left hand, and when he brought it away he could see a couple drops of blood on his palm. He gulped as Granny Pinako shook her head:

"Doesn't matter; even if this school existed, you wouldn't be in good enough shape to go by September first. Look at you, still spitting up blood."

Edward fumed, wiping his mouth, knowing that she was right. Winry handed him back his letter, shrugging slightly.

"Ah well; it was fun while it lasted."

~~*e.s.*~~

The damn owl wouldn't go away.

Edward tried _everything_ to try to get it to flee, but nothing worked. He threw things at it, sent Den after it, and even dumped a bucket of water all over it and Al (earning him a wrench to the head from Winry; "leave the poor little thing alone, will ya?? You're just jealous that it's getting more attention than you 'cause it's _cuter!_ "). Much to his great disdain, Al and Winry weren't the only ones that stood up for the infernal creature. Even Granny Pinako had developed a fondness for the thing and had begun to feed it and even found it a place to sleep in the shed out back the second night. Ed was the only one in the house that didn't want it there.

"We should probably think of a name for it," Winry said on day three of Owl Madness, lying on her belly in the tall grass with Al and the owl as Pinako and Ed hung wet clothing on the clothes line for it to dry.

"We don't even know if it's a he or a she," Al pointed out. Winry tapped on her chin; the young Elric brother had a good point.

"...Granny, will you check and see what gender it is for us?"

Pinako looked over her shoulder at Al and Winry:

"Sorry, but I can't help you there; I don't know how to tell on owls."

Winry looked crestfallen:

"...Well, maybe we can just brainstorm some names until we find out for sure whether it's a girl or a boy."

"Sounds like a plan," Al said cheerfully. "Hmm...how about Hoot?"

"Hoot? Al, that's so uncreative!" Winry laughed. "How 'bout Zoey?"

"Too girly," Al complained. "Flamel?"

"Oh no, we are _not_ naming this poor owl after some crackpot alchemy philosopher."

"Hey!" Ed shouted from the clothesline. "Nicholas Flamel was _not_ a crackpot! He was the genius who discovered nearly everything we know about modern alchemy--"

"Save it, Alchemy Freak," Winry said, sticking her tongue out at Ed.

"Can it, Gear Head!!" Ed screeched, causing him to cough.

"Oh, stop it, both of you," Pinako said, rolling her eyes. Ed hung up the last shirt upon the line and then walked over to where Winry and his brother were with the owl.

"...Onyx," he piped up. "Like its eyes."

"Onyx?" Winry said, contemplating the sounds of that.

"I actually kind of like that," Al offered. "Its eyes _do_ look very gemstone-like."

"If we're going to be comparing it to gemstones, let her name be diamond!" Winry crooned, petting it lovingly. Edward rolled his eyes.

"You're such a _girl_. What if it's a boy owl? Sheesh."

Winry stuck her tongue out at him again. Al, still trying to keep the peace, spoke:

"Garnet's another gemstone name we could use. Its feathers' color, you know."

"They're more brown than garnet," Ed pointed out. Winry nodded in agreement, much to Al's relief; as long as they weren't trying to bite each other's heads off.

"Gabriella?" Winry said.

"Or Gabriel--the boy version," Al said. Ed sighed:

"Ok, and now we're getting Biblical. It's an _owl_ , not an angel, guys."

"I like those names, though," Winry said, and Al nodded in back-up. Edward slumped onto the grass next to them, thinking. Suddenly, a mischievous smile crept onto his face:

"Nequam."

"Nequam? What kind of name is _that_??" Winry said.

"It's a name with a _meaning_ ," Ed said. "It's Latin."

"Latin for what? I don't think I know that one..." Al said. His brother always was better at memorizing languages than him, after all.

"Good for nothing," Ed smirked. Winry hit him in the (non-automail) arm:

"That's horrible! It's good for something!"

"It brings mail," Al pointed out. Ed rolled his eyes:

"Honestly, guys, how reliable can an owl be?"

"Reliable enough if that school trusts it to send out all of its letters."

"Al, I told already, there's no way that letter was real. The school, the letter, the supplies list--all fake."

"Sure, sure, whatever," Winry said. "Don't get all worked up about that again."

"Liluye."

Winry raised an eyebrow at the short alchemist:

"Why are the names you come up with so _weird_ \--?"

"Once again, it has a meaning."

"What language is that?" Alphonse inquired, eager to learn.

"Ancient Xergese. It means 'singing chicken that soars.'"

Winry slapped him again, making him and Al laugh out loud.

"Good one, brother!"

"Do not encourage him, Alphonse!"

Ed tapped on his chin:

"Aleda."

"I don't want to hear it," Winry said, crossing her arms.

"No, this one's not too bad. It's Latin for small and winged."

Winry paused for a moment, then looked at Al, who shrugged:

"Not _too_ bad."

"I still like Gabriel," Winry said.

"Ooh!" Al pitched in. "How about Verchiel?"

"Oooo, good one, Alphonse!" Winry said.

"Yeah, that one's not bad," Ed said, nodding slightly. "The root 'verc' is in it. Bashfulness."

"Aww," Winry said, cuddling the owl as it picked at her blonde hair. Ed yawned, laying upon the grass, looking up into the cloudless sky.

"Should we go inside, Ed? It's getting kind of hot..." Al asked concernedly. Ed shook his head:

"It's still early, the heat's not too bad yet."

"But your port--"

"Will heal in time," Ed snapped, cutting off his little brother's nagging. Winry frowned at him for being mean; apparently the owl didn't take kindly to his meanness, either, for it flew on top of his chest and pecked at his nose.

"OWW!" Ed yelled, swatting at the owl, which didn't budge, instead looking at the cranky boy in a mocking manner. It cocked its head all adorable-like, attempting to get an 'aww' out of him similar to those it could hear coming from behind from Alphonse and Winry. Edward rolled his eyes, though, refusing to let it pull him down into its sea of unrelenting adorable-ness.

"You're not cute."

It blinked as if saying _yes I am_.

"No you're not. You're annoying."

_Liar_.

Edward narrowed his eyes at the creature.

"Malificent."

"Brother! The owl is not evil!" Alphonse cried, recognizing the Latin root in that one. Edward stuck his tongue out at the bird:

"You're lucky you have such a fan club, 'else Den and I would've gotten you a long time ago!!"

The owl hooted in his face, pecking at his automail; Edward laughed:

"Can't feel that!"

He could've sworn the owl's eyes narrowed in viciousness before it continued to peck and peck at his prosthetic arm.

~~*e.s.*~~

Day five of Owl Madness, and the owl wouldn't stop following Edward around. She (Al and Winry finally found a farmer who could tell its gender for them) had obviously taken a liking to his shiny automail and took every chance she could to peck at it. Though Ed obviously couldn't feel her little beak, it was still annoying to constantly have to deal with the _ding, ding, dings_ of the bird's fetish.

"Ok, seriously, bird?? Al, can you get it away from me already??"

"I'll try..." Alphonse walked over to the couch his brother was lounging upon and gently picked the owl off of his right arm.

"Wanna go outside, pretty?" And with that Al and the owl walked out the door. Ed listened for the slam of the shut door, then quickly bolted up from the couch and closed all of the open windows.

"Phew! Finally away from that thing!" he exclaimed in happiness, flopping back down onto the couch, attempting to cross his right leg over his left. He quickly uncrossed them, however, once the weight of his right met the port of his left leg's automail, putting pressure upon an already-sensitive area. Cursing himself for not thinking, he leaned his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes. As he lay there, he drifted into near-unconsciousness, relaxing. Inhale, exhale, inhale...

"OW!!"

Edward rubbed his forehead with his left hand, wrinkling his nose in disgust for his own stupidity. He almost freaking knocked himself out with his own automail! _This stuff sure does take more getting used to than I had anticipated..._

Turning his head toward the coffee table, he saw his discarded Hogwarts letter, lying open, the envelope it had come in lying face-down next to its contents. The emerald ink seemed to shine, popping out of the page, the green accentuated by the dull, plain color of the thick parchment. Ed's tired eyes just stared blankly at the words, ignoring their meaning. He especially looked closely at Professor McGonagall's signature, his pupil's lightly tracing the loopy letters boredly.

"You doing alright, Edward?" Pinako said as she walked through the doorway.

"Yeah, I'm ok," he assured the old woman. "Just relaxing a bit."

He reached out to the letter with his automail arm, taking care to barely grasp the paper so as not to shred a hole in it. Luckily for him, parchment is thick.

"...Granny, do you think this letter is legitimate?"

"Hmm?" Pinako said from the kitchen. "The Hogwarts one?"

"Yeah."

She drank deeply from her mug of tea, contemplating how to answer the young Elric's question.

"...I don't see why it couldn't be real. Though I know how you are about the whole magic thing."

"Magic doesn't exist. But this school...I honestly don't know what to say about it. Who would go through all of this work to train an owl, get parchment and a bright green ink, snoop inside of this house and print off this letter just to prank an eleven-year-old?"

"That does sound far-fetched," Granny agreed, pouring a second mug of tea for herself and then one for to take to Edward. "So you're saying that you think it's easier to believe that the school's real than to believe it's all a prank?"

"No," Ed said, frowning. "What I'm saying is that I don't know what to believe."

Pinako walked over to the couch and set the mug down on the table, setting herself down in her chair next to him.

"Maybe you should write back to them."

Ed raised his eyebrows:

"Huh?"

"That owl obviously knows where they are. Write back saying how you're not interested in attending the school because you are skeptical about it. That and your health will not permit you to travel so soon."

Ed contemplated this, then nodded, agreeing that Pinako's plan was a good one. As he sat up on the couch, Pinako got up and fetched him the required materials to reply to the letter from Hogwarts. After a moment of pen-tapping, Edward set to work:

To Whom It May Concern,

                I appreciate the notification of my acceptance into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and thank you for the letter. However, I must say that I question a few things mentioned in the letter--most specifically, all things referencing to magic. I am not a believer in such things, therefore I do not see why I should learn about it. I am also skeptical about the true purpose of your letter, wondering whether or not Hogwarts truly exists or if the letter was intended as a prank of some sort. The aforementioned plus the fact that my current health is not quite up to par are the reasons behind my denying my acceptance.              

                Many thanks for your consideration, and I do apologize for wasting your time.

                Edward Elric

After handing it to Granny Pinako to read over and getting her approval, he slipped it into the provided envelope and, feeling rather at a loss for what to write in the address space, simply scribbled 'Hogwarts' upon the envelope, hoping that the owl would understand.

As if on cue, Alphonse and Winry walked in with the owl flying behind them. It immediately flew onto Ed's shoulder and pecked at his automail, then stopped when it saw the envelope in his hands. Edward grinned:

"That's right, creature; I've got a job for you to do that involves you going far, far away."

"What is that, brother?" Alphonse asked, pointing to the letter in his hands.

"My denial letter to Hogwarts."

"You're not going?" Winry said. Ed shook his head fervently:

"I still don't know if it's for real or not, plus even if it was, Granny's right. I wouldn't be well enough to go. Plus I've got to start preparing for my State Alchemist's Exam as soon as I'm 100%."

Winry looked behind him at the discarded acceptance letter, then sighed.

"That's right; I had forgotten that you wanted to join the military."

Ed nodded, walking out of the room with owl on his shoulder. Alphonse followed him out the front door, standing behind him on the porch as he walked down the steps onto the path that leads to the mailbox. He showed the owl the letter:

"...I hope you'll understand what I'm about to tell you. Listen carefully: take this letter to the headmaster of your school, Hogwarts, ok?"

The bird stared at him, then blinked once, grasping the letter he handed her in her sharp talons, then flying off into the sunset. Edward stood and watched it until it dissapeared out of sight, feeling relieved both that the owl was finally gone and that he took care of whatever that letter was about. When he turned on his heel to walk back up the front steps, however, he saw Alphonse still looking out into the horizon.

"...Ed...are you sure you made the right decision?"

Ed nodded firmly:

"We don't need anything standing in the way of our search for the Philosopher's Stone."

~~*e.s.*~~


	3. Two Missions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Dumbledore receives a mysterious and rare denial letter to Hogwarts, he sets off on a mission that would soon collide with the Elric's lives in more ways than one...much to Edward's disdain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Chapter Two: Two Missions~

 

Alphonse walked across the front porch in the light gray sheen of the early dawn, sorely missing his little feathered friend. If she were here, he wouldn't be alone at this time. Not that he wasn't already used to being alone in the night, but it was nice to have a companion to join him in his loneliness. Otherwise, the nights just dragged on and on, the darkness becoming darker with every minute that passed.

The only good thing about his not being able to sleep was that he _never_ missed a sunrise. Al looked forward to seeing the colors creep up over the horizon line every morn, loved witnessing the birth of every new day. But still, he was alone; the only people in the household that sometimes sat out front and watched with him were Den and Granny Pinako if she was up already for her morning pipe-smoking.

This morning, however, Alphonse saw a surprise visitor sitting on the front steps, and as he approached, he saw that it was Ed. He was still in the loose-fitting shirt and boxer shorts that he wore to bed, his long, golden hair down and wisping around his face in the gentle morning breeze.

"Brother? You're awake so early?"

"Couldn't sleep," Edward said, hugging his knees to him and rubbing his eyes. Alphonse sat next to him, looking down at him with concern. His ports weren't bleeding again, though he did notice that his leg looked a bit reddened...well, at least he thought it did. Al didn't really know much about that medical-type stuff. All he knew was that if it was bleeding, something was wrong. And he knew to tattle on Ed if he tried doing anything strenuous again.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" Al asked his fatigued older brother. Ed frowned slightly:

"...I had too much on my mind. I was trying to think about everything at once and couldn't. Gave myself a headache, too."

"You can't be doing that to yourself, Ed. Granny says you need your sleep--"

"And I'll get sleep, Granny doesn't need to worry about that, and neither do you, Al. It's not your job to worry about me, it's my job to worry about you. _I'm_ the big brother, remember?"

Alphonse sat in silence for a long moment, and then asked softly:

"Is that what you were thinking about all night long, Ed?"

Ed looked up at his little brother, or rather, looked at what had become of him. Close to seven feet tall now, he looked more menacing than lovable, which completely differentiated from his actual appearance and personality. Just as it had done so last night and several nights before, Edward's mind played a cruel trick on him, for instead of seeing steel armor, Ed saw young Alphonse's true form, what he was supposed to be. The look on his usually-smiling face broke Ed's heart, and as their identical amber eyes met, Ed slowly reached out a hand towards him, just as he had that fateful night, trying to keep him with him, to save him...

Ed abruptly awoke from his mirage as his automail fingers made a metallic sound upon Al's hollow armor. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, his head drooping.

"Yeah, that was a part of it," he admitted to Alphonse. His hand dropped from his brother's armor to the porch below, his steel joints bending, clenching as he held back tears. Men don't cry, and if Ed was going to be in the military, he had to stop that. Starting now.

Alphonse could see right through his tough-guy ruse, however, but he found himself at a loss for words. He wanted to reassure his brother that he knew who the big brother was, that it was he who owed Ed his life, not the other way around. That he was still the same Alphonse, just in armor-form. Instead, though, the only thing that came out wasn't even a reply at all, but yet another question.

"What else was keeping you up?"

Edward opened his eyes, trying to stay awake. He lifted his head up:

"Various other things; the requirements for the State Alchemist's Examination, that whole Hogwarts letter thing, my automail rehabilitation progress (or lack of...), those sort of things. The usual."

"Since when is your Hogwarts acceptance usual?" Alphonse said, silently pleased that Edward hadn't stopped thinking about the mysterious letter after all.

"It's not. I just bunched that into the load of crap that's been happening to us lately."   

"Ah. That makes sense."

"Yeah."

Edward yawned hugely, stretching his arms out in front of him. He could feel his eyelids dropping as exhaustion began to catch up with him. As he rested his chin on the palm of his icy steel hand, he followed Al's suite and peacefully watched the sky turn from gray to red, then from red to pink, pink to orange, and so on, and so on...

CLANG.

Alphonse looked down in shock to see that his brother had finally given in to sleep, his head bumping into Al's side as he collapsed. Al moved his arm out of the way so that Ed could be comfortable as he leaned upon his little brother, his hair falling over his peaceful face as his breathing slowed, relaxed. Turning his attention back to the sunrise, he thought about all of the 'load of crap' that has happened to them, sighing when the list kept going on and on, starting from when their mother died. Al secretly wished that their human transmutation worked, though never say such a thing out loud, though, for it would only bring about a gloomy mood and bad memories.  Even so, he knew that Ed bitterly wished the same thing. But one cannot change the past; the only thing Alphonse and Edward could do was try to fix the future, fix their lives. He knew Ed would stop at nothing to get his body back, and that relieved and worried him, because the last time Ed became so determined about something, their lives were nearly lost completely. _Which is why I need to stay by my brother at all times, no matter what, so that he doesn't do something stupid and gets himself even more hurt..._ he thought. As Alphonse continued to silently watch the sunset this morning just as he would do every morning, though, for once he did not feel so lonely.

The sun was finally breaking past the horizon line just as Granny Pinako walked out the front door, pipe at the ready. She stopped in the doorway, however, and her eyes bestowed the heartwarming sight of Ed and Al sitting next to each other, their bodies silhouetted against the beautiful morning sky. Both were still and quiet, Edward sleeping soundly against his brother, Alphonse's helmet tilted up towards the rising sun. Pinako quietly lit her pipe and leaned against the doorframe, watching a scene more gorgeous than any sunrise she had ever witnessed before in her lifetime.

 

~~*e.s.*~~  

 

{two days after the previous event}

KNOCK-KNOCK.

Hagrid opened the door to his little hut and beamed at his guest:

"Professor Dumbledore, sir! Come on in, have some tea."

"Thank you, Hagrid," Dumbledore said, accepting the mug of tea as he sat down at the groundskeeper's large table. Hagrid helped himself to a mug as he asked:

"So what brings you here to-night?"

"I've a little mission for you, Hagrid."

Hagrid sat down across from the Headmaster, listening intently, instantly curious about his mission. Dumbledore took a sip from his mug of tea and then took a deep breath:

"I fear that Harry Potter still has yet to receive his Hogwarts letter, Hagrid; his aunt and uncle have taken him and their own son out of town, and though my owls have found them every time, I have a feeling that Vernon Dursley has gone out of his way to make sure Harry doesn't read his letters."

"Bleedin' Muggles, the lot o' them," Hagrid growled angrily. Dumbledore nodded once, then continued:

"What I would like you to do--just so we can be sure that Harry is set to go September 1st--is go to where they are staying right now and pick him up to do his shopping. I will allow you, just this once, to use any means of magic that you may find _completely necessary_ to use in order to get to Harry. After that, though, Hagrid, I cannot allow you to use any more of it in front of the boy."

"Oh, o' course not, Professor, sir!" Hagrid said, nodding in complete understanding. Dumbledore smiled:

"I trust that you will get Mr. Potter to Diagon Alley safely, Hagrid, just as I trusted you that first night to get him to his aunt and uncle's safely. You did not disappoint me that time, and I know you won't this time, either."

"Yeh have my word, Professor Dumbledore, that I see to it that Harry Potter receives his letter and buys all of his necessaries for his first year at Hogwarts. I'll leave to-morrow at dawn."

"Wonderful. Thank you very much, Hagrid, for doing this for me," Dumbledore said, shaking his groundskeeper's giant hand, his smile genuinely thankful. When he let go of Hagrid's hand, though, Dumbledore remembered.

"One small thing, while you are in Diagon Alley, if you will..."

He handed Hagrid a parchment envelope addressed to Gringotts Bank. Hagrid's eyes widened as he realized what the letter must be about, what Dumbledore wishes for him to fetch from the old wizard's bank.

"The letter gives specific instructions. Just hand it to the goblin at the front desk and he will understand completely. I trust you will bring it here unscathed, correct?"

"Aye; I wouldn't dare let it fall into the wrong hands..." Hagrid gulped as he tucked the letter carefully into his big coat. "An' I suppose I should take care not to mention what is in that vault to Harry, right?"

"Correct," Dumbledore said. "It would be very bad if Mr. Potter found out about the Sorcerer's Stone--at least so soon it would be."

Hagrid nodded yet again to show Dumbledore he understood his instructions completely: fetch Harry, take him to Diagon Alley, and while at Gringotts, pick up the stone for Dumbledore.

TAP-TAP-TAPPITY-TAP.

The half-giant and the old wizard looked out the window to see a small, brown-and-white feathered barn owl carrying a letter tapping at the window with its beak. Hagrid hurried over to the window and opened it; the owl hopped and, after hooting a quick greeting to Hagrid, flew across the room towards where Dumbledore stood, dropping the letter down upon his shoulder. Dumbledore took the letter in his hands and smiled his thanks to the owl. The owl, instead of flying off towards the owlery like it would usually do in that instance, however, stayed right where it was, apparently waiting for Dumbledore to open the letter. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at the owl:

"Does this letter require a reply of some sort?" he asked curiously, for he had initially thought that it was simply another Hogwarts enrollment acceptance letter. The owl blinked. Dumbledore looked back down at the letter: _Hogwarts_.

"Well now, look Hagrid," Dumbledore said in slight amusement. "It seems that I have recently changed my name from Albus Dumbledore to Hogwarts." And with that last remark he finally ripped open the envelope and began to read the lettter, the owl and Hagrid both waiting patiently, curiously, to hear what it's about and, in Hagrid's case, who it's from. Dumbledore took his time in reading every word, every sentence, and when he was done, when he saw from whom it came from...

"Just another acceptance reply, sir?"

"No," Dumbledore said, slightly disbelieving. "A denial."

Hagrid's jaw dropped:

"What? Yeh mean to say that someone has actually written to _deny_ their Hogwart's acceptance??"

"That is exactly what I mean to say. It's very strange, though, given whose son this is...hmm. Something doesn't feel right here."

"Why? Whose son is it, Professor?"

Dumbledore looked up from the letter at Hagrid, then at the owl. After a moment’s pause, Dumbledore answered Hagrid's question:

"No one I have told you about, unfortunately, but he is a great wizard nonetheless--a great wizard that never would've allowed one of his sons’s to deny a Hogwarts acceptance."

Hagrid looked confused:

"Then...what happened?"

"I do not know, Hagrid." Dumbledore gestured for the owl to come with him; she understood and immediately flew up and perched herself lightly upon the old wizard's shoulder. "But I do intend to find out. I will return in a few days’ time. Take good care of Harry and the stone, Hagrid."

"I will, Professor Dumbledore! Yeh can count on me; and I do hope your visit goes well, sir!"

Dumbledore waved as he walked away from Hagrid's hut. The owl turned her head around and hooted her farewell to the kind gamekeeper as well, then quickly returned her attention to the headmaster. Dumbledore glanced down at her, and then sighed:

"I honestly wasn't expecting to see you back here like this, little owl...I wonder what has gotten into Van Hohenheim as of late..."

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

{the morning after the previous event}

"Winry! Granny! Help me!!" Al cried from the bedroom. The two Rockbells stopped what they were doing in the kitchen immediately after hearing Al's screams, running as fast as they could to the back of the house.

"What is it, Alphonse?" Pinako asked with worry.

"It's brother, I can't wake him up! I think something's wrong with him--he said he wasn't feeling good last night and that his ports were hurting, but then he went right to sleep, so I just thought--I don't know, but I can't wake him up, and look at how much he's sweating!"

"Winry, go grab the thermometer," Pinako ordered, kneeling down next to Ed's bedside. "And the first aid kit. Quick."

Winry bolted out of the room on Granny's orders, her adrenaline running rampant in worry. Al watched with worry as Pinako uncovered his brother, revealing that his leg's port was swollen and red. When Pinako gingerly touched it with the flat of her hand, she felt feverish heat radiating from the surgical sight. Cursing under her breath, she gestured for Al to help her sit Edward up against the pillows so that she could pull off his t-shirt. Ed stirred a bit but did not awaken, even after being jostled around that much. Pinako bit down onto her bottom lip as she saw that the arm's port was in very similar shape to his leg's.

"Surgical site infection," she informed a worried Alphonse. "Doesn't look too serious, but then again we haven't checked to see how high that fever of his is. And the fact that we can't rouse him isn't good, either."

As if on cue, Winry ran into the room and tossed Pinako the thermometer, which the old doctor placed underneath Ed's left arm. As they waited for the temperature reading, Winry pursed her lips at the sight of Ed's arm and leg.

"Was he complaining last night?"

"Yeah, but it was in that whiney voice of his, so I couldn't tell if he was joking around or what..." Al said, suddenly feeling guilty. Winry offered him a small smile:

"It's not your fault, Al. This isn't as bad as it looks."

"37.7 degrees Celsius. Barely under 38." Pinako set the thermometer on the bedside stand, taking the first aid kit from Winry as she thought.

"...I'd like to put an antibiotic drip on him for about three hours or so and see if that takes care of it, but I know how Ed is about needles..."

"What about that amoxicillin we had in the fridge from--?"

"I dumped it out the other day, worried that it was too old to be used. I'm severely regretting that now."

"Well," Winry reasoned, "Maybe if we just clean the ports three times daily for the next few days and see how that goes?"

"Al...?"

"Brother!" Alphonse cried, running over to Edward's bedside. "You're awake!"

"My head hurts...HOLY SHIT," he yelled, gaping at his leg's port. "It's--"

"Infected, yes," Pinako said, frowning. "It's not too bad, just a little redness and a small fever, but we do need to get you on some sort of antibiotics."

Ed exhaled in relief, lying back down upon his pillows, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. Al, Winry and Pinako looked at each other, and then Pinako and Al stood back away from the bed and nodded at Winry. Winry gaped at them, then regained her composure and took a deep breath.

"Granny wants to put you on a drip," Winry quickly informed him.

The effect was immediate; all the color drained from Edward's face as he leapt off of the bed away from the old lady.

"NO! No no no no, no needles! You have liquid medication you can give to me, right?!" he appeased to the old lady, desperate to be able to escape from the torture of having to sit in bed with the awful feeling of having a thin piece of metal intruding into your flesh the entire time. He had enough of that with the damn IVs during the surgery itself, and then with the stiches when they were put in.

"Nope," Pinako said, obviously taking evil pleasure in making the boy squirm. "I dumped out all of the liquid amoxicillin the other day. The needle is your only choice."

"I won't do it!" Ed screeched, hiding behind his younger brother's gargantuan armor. "Save me, Alphonse! Don't let them stick me!!"

"Uh, uhm..." Al looked at a loss for words. Then he looked up at Granny Pinako and Winry, into their threatening glares, and he side-stepped away from his brother. "Sorry, Ed. It's for your own good--"

"TRAITOR!!" Edward bawled, diving for the door.

CLICK.

"There's no escape, PIPSQUEAK," Winry said, flames dancing in her pupils as she guarded the door like a demented gargoyle that had just emerged from the innermost circle of Hell below. Edward gaped at his mechanic as he slumped to the floor in fear, his bottom lip quivering miserably. Winry saw this and held her expression as long as she could, but she suddenly felt bad for little Edward and couldn't keep up her fierce look; it wasn't his fault that needles scared him so much.

"Aw, Ed, don't look at me like that--"

Ed jumped up like a grasshopper and swung open the door, flying past the shocked girl with lightning-fast speed.

"THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR CALLING ME A MOUSY LITTLE PIPSQUEAK!!"

"GET HIM," Pinako ordered, sprinting out of the room with surprising speed for a woman her age, Winry and Alphonse following close behind her.

 

*37.7 degrees Celsius = approximately 100 degrees Fahrenheit. (A/N: for our Standard System-only friends out there ^_^)

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

_...drip...drip...drip..._

Edward fumed as he sat in bed with the infernal needle stuck into his left arm. Yawning slightly, he asked Winry for the umpteenth time:

"How much longer?"

"Two-and-a-half hours still, Ed. Stop asking me," she growled as she finished wrapping his leg's port. "There. Leave that on there until after lunchtime, and then I'll clean it and re-wrap it again."

"Great," Ed said as he tied his hair back into a loose ponytail. "So, how much longer?"

"UGH."

And with that Winry stomped out of the room. Edward frowned after her: "it was just a simple question..."

After being dragged by the hair by Granny Pinako back onto the bed and being held down by Winry and his own brother, Edward felt that he was not only bitterly unsuccessful at escaping the horrid fate that was the needle, but also betrayed. His abhorrence to needles wasn't a particularly serious phobia (not even a phobia at all, really, just an extreme dislike, but Ed acts like it's a mortal fear...), but he would always put up a fight to get out of having to be stuck every time such a thing was mentioned. Sometimes he would win; most of the time, not so much. This was one of those times, unfortunately, and though his ports really were painful, Edward found himself feeling more bored than anything else.

"Still can't believe you turned me in, Al," Ed muttered, purposely not looking at his brother. Alphonse sighed:

"It was for your own good, brother."

Ed ignored him.

"...The silent treatment? Really?"

Ed ignored him.

"Aw, come _on_ , Ed!"

"Hmph!"

Alphonse mentally rolled his eyes, resting his head atop his hands as he watched the medicine flow from the plastic bag on the hanger into Edward's vein. For someone that was supposed to be sick, Ed sure did put up quite a fight to escape. But then again, this came as no surprise to Alphonse at all; knowing Ed, he was most likely plotting ways to rip the needle out without spilling too much blood and then escaping out the window. Too bad Al was right there in the room, stationed specifically to make sure something like that _doesn't_ happen. Winry and Granny simply knew the little alchemist too well.

"Since you've been forced to guard me, Al, entertain me," Edward ordered his armored brother. "It's the least you could do after betraying me."

"It's not a betrayal if it benefits your overall health!" Alphonse retorted, feeling utterly exasperated at having to deal with his brat of a brother.

"I would've gotten over it eventually!" Ed screeched.

"And if you _didn't_??"

"Shut up, Al, there are no ifs about it. I said I would've, therefore I would've. End of discussion."

"Ugh," Al shook his head, giving up on reasoning with Ed. "And no, I won't 'entertain' you. Entertain yourself."

"Fine. _Fine_." Ed slumped. "Hand me that book over there, will ya?"

Alphonse got up from his chair and walked over to the foot of the bed, where sat a large box of books the two of them had gotten down from their attic last week. After handing Ed the book of alchemic equations he had originally pointed to, he returned to the box, kneeling down next to its edge in order to reach down and pull out various volumes and titles. Most of them, since they had belonged to their father, we on alchemy, obviously, but there was the occasional novel or nonfiction title on a subject other than alchemy. As Ed dove right into his thick book, Alphonse peered into the box.

"...Wonder what this is."

Al pulled a thick, leather-bound book out of the big box, looking at its worn cover with interest. _The Tales of Beedle the Bard..._?

"Hey Ed, have you ever heard of anyone called Beedle the Bard?"

Ed's head popped up from behind the pages of his alchemy book.

"Is that a person?"

"I think so."

"Never heard of him. Or her. What kind of person has a name like Beedle the Bard, anyway?"

"I have no idea...hmm," Alphonse said, opening the front cover and reading the introduction on the first few pages; Ed did not dip his head back into his book, however, instead waiting impatiently to hear about the mysterious book. Al gasped at the first sentence of the second page.

"What? What is it?" Ed demanded curiously.

"... _Tales of Beedle the Bard is a collection of stories written for young wizards and witches--_ brother! These are wizarding fairy tales!"

"Al, wizards don't exist--OOF!" Ed shouted as Al threw the heavy book into his brother's lap.

"See for yourself!"

After shooting his brother a look of annoyance, Edward picked the book up, first taking a chance to examine the old, dusty cover. When he finally got around to opening the thing and reading the intro, he found that what his brother had said was true. The book's first few pages stated clearly that its contents were a collection of old bedtime stories written by this Beedle character specifically for the Wizarding audience, printed in both its original ancient runes text and in English translation.

"I told you," Alphonse said, reading his brother's astounded expression to be a symbol of his correct-ness. "This proves it; magic _does_ exist. That Hogwarts letter wasn't a fake after all!"

"Whoa there, Alphonse, let's not get carried away. This book could mean a lot of things, including what you just said. But it could also have been written just as a fantasy-themed entertainment source for young children, just like all other fairy tale collections. Beedle the Bard could just be this author's pen name."

"But what if it _is_ his real name? And what if you’re _wrong_." Oooo. Alphonse quite liked the sound of that; the more his brother got proven right about things (which he _was_ right a lot of times, unfortunately), the cockier he got. Edward shrugged, apparently unfazed by the possibility.

"Then I was wrong. Big deal, there's no way we can find out, anyway."

Alphonse thought about this, and then sighed in defeat:

"Oh well. Let's read them!"

"What, these stories?? Al, their children's stories!"

"So what? They'll be entertaining!"

Ed considered this as he flipped inquisitively to the book's table of contents. The titles of the stories within, however, made him bust up with laughter.

"What's so funny??" Alphonse demanded.

"These stories! _The Wizard and the Hopping Pot_ , _Grumble the Grubby Goat_ , _Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling S-Stump_ \--ah, this is _rich!!_ " Ed howled, clutching at his chest as he tried to calm down enough to set the book back down onto the bedspread. Once he regained his composure, he grinned at Alphonse.

"Ok, sure Al. We'll read some of these stories."

"Really??" Alphonse asked happily.

"Yeah. It'll help pass the time that I have left hooked up to this damn needle," Ed said, tossing his alchemy book to the ground before turning back to the storybook, flipping the page over to the first story. "You want me to read first or do you want the first story?"

"You go ahead, brother," Alphonse said, resting his arm upon the side of the bed and leaning upon it in order to be able to see the illustrations accompanying the stories. Ed leaned back against his pillow, clearing his throat before he read:

" _'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot: There was once a kindly old wizard who used his magic generously and wisely for the benefit of his neighbors...'_ "

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Winry approached Ed's door curiously, a tray full of warm food in her arms. She stopped once in front of the door, listening in to the sounds of laughter from within. _What are those two_ doing _in there that's so funny?_

"Hey you two, what's going on?"

Winry set the food down onto the bedside table, looking back at Ed and Al, who were both looking intently at the contents of some really old-looking book, Ed reading out loud from it.

" _'"Very good," said the stump, "but you have not yet made amends to Babbitty!"_

"What _are_ you reading?" Winry asked, giggling at the name Babbitty.

"Some funny old children's stories we found in Hohenheim's box of books," Ed said, turning the page.

"They're supposedly written for young witches and wizards!" Alphonse piped up. Winry raised an eyebrow.

"Witches and wizards? Ed, I thought you didn't believe any of that magic stuff," Winry said confusedly.

"I don't," Ed clarified. "But these stories are still entertaining." He looked at his bag of antibiotics. "How much longer, anyway?"

"Thirty-five, maybe thirty minutes."

"Ok, cool. Al, it'll be your turn as soon as I finish old Babbitty Rabbitty's tale," Ed said, chortling once again at the ridiculous name.

"Which story is next?" Al asked excitedly. Ed turned and glanced at the next page.

"... _The Tale of the Three Brothers_."

"Cool. Hurry up and finish," Al said excitedly. Winry laughed at them.

"Well, Ed, here's your food, whenever you get hungry. I'll be back in thirty minutes time to finally unhook you from your torture device."

Ed, however, was already back to reading the story and didn't even react to Winry's comment. Winry rolled her eyes and exited the room, feeling somewhat relieved that Ed did not pester her to unhook him early. But then again, why would he? He was having way too much fun reading those silly fairy tales with his brother...

 _... wizard's fairy tales,_ Winry corrected herself, once again wondering--almost _hoping_ \--that magic really was real.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

{two nights after the previous event}

Edward was lying in bed that evening, feeling much better now that the infection in his ports was pretty much cleared now, trying to clear his mind so that he could get a decent night's rest. As he stared up into the ceiling, he yawned, feeling more relaxed than he had felt in a while...

TAP-TAP-TAPPITTY-TAP.

"What the...?" Ed ward said, reluctantly sitting up and looking around the room for the source of the taps. After seeing nothing out of the ordinary during his quick sweep, he fell back down against the pillows, deciding that he was simply hearing things...

TAP-TAPPITTY-TAP-TAP-TAAAAAP.

This time, Ed got out of the bed to check it out.

TAP-TAP-TAP!!

"Ah hell. YOU again!" Edward screeched when he looked out the window, for there, tapping upon the glass with her little beak, was the damn owl. Ed snapped his fingers to get her attention, then pointed away into the night, trying to mime to her to get lost. Seemingly unfazed by the order, the little owl blinked, then tapped on the window even harder than last time. Sighing heavily, Ed gave in and reluctantly opened the window to let the little owl in. She hopped onto the window ledge, then turned around and grabbed the letter she had brought with her in her tiny beak, dropping it in Ed's hands. After taking one last look at the owl, Ed tore open the letter:

_Dear Mr. Elric,_

_I am very sorry that you do not wish to attend Hogwarts due to the fact that you are skeptical about the existence of magic. I wish to pay you a small visit, in hopes that I can convince you otherwise. By the time you read my signature at the bottom of the page, I will most likely be on your doorstep._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore._

"...WHAAA--?!!"

There was a knock at the front door. Ed could hear it distinctly, even though he was at the back of the house. He could also hear quick footsteps running up to the front of the house, and before he could open the door to the hallway, Alphonse and Winry entered through it.

"Wonder who that could be--AWW, LOOK AL, SHE'S BACK!" Winry squealed in delight.

"The owl! I knew she'd be back!!" Alphonse proclaimed, clapping his hands in happiness as she flew off of the bed onto his shoulder. "Did she bring you another letter, brother?"

"Yeah, UNFORTUNATELY." He handed Alphonse his letter from Dumbledore.

"... _That's_ who's at the door??"

"Who??" Winry demanded, looking at the letter in Al's hands. She gasped:

"He's here?! Let's go meet him!"

"Come on, brother, maybe he can convince you to go to Hogwarts after all!"

"No way, I'm trying to _sleep_!!" Edward complained, crossing his arms as he turned his nose up to the owl. She didn't take kindly to that, however, and swooped down to perch upon his head, pecking at his nose.

"OW, you damn bird! GET OFF!!"

"Don't hurt her!" Alphonse said, gently lifting her off of his brother's head. Winry huffed and grabbed Ed's arm, attempting to drag him out the door.

"Don't be rude, he's come to visit _you_. You can sleep later!"

"Alright, woman, FINE! Just let go of me--and at least lemme get dressed!"

Winry obliged, leaning against the door so that she could listen in to see if Granny got the door or not while Ed put his clothes on. She could here two different voices, one belonging to a man, but she couldn't tell what they were talking about. She impatiently looked back at Ed.

"You dressed yet?"

Ed slid his boots on, and then stood up, straightening his jacket.

"Brother, your gloves," Alphonse reminded Ed.

"Ooo, good call, Al."

Ed quickly grabbed his gloves off of the bedside table before following Winry and his brother out the door.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

"Would you like some tea, Professor?" Pinako asked as she led the old wizard into the living area.

"Yes, tea would be nice. Thank you," Dumbledore said politely as he sat down upon the sofa.

"And Edward should be out in a moment. You said you sent that owl after him?"

"Yes, she should've gotten the letter to Mr. Elric by now."

"Mmk then," Pinako said, retreating back to the kitchen to get the wizard's tea. As he waiting for Edward, Dumbledore looked around the room he was in, observing his surroundings. Though he had been to Resembool once before, he had not paid a visit to the Rockbell Prosthetic Limb Outfitters before--not that he would've felt so inclined to do so. But still, it was nice to find oneself in a new scene every once in a while. He could see bits of mechanical arms and legs lying upon a workbench in the far back corner of the room, and a cabinet of various medical supplies in the other back corner. The rest of the room, however, looked like an ordinary living space, thus Dumbledore assumed that most of the family’s practices occurred in the back rooms of the house.

Pinako returned with a tray of teacups and a tea kettle. After pouring herself and Professor Dumbledore a cup, she sat back in her chair, sipping carefully at her hot tea.

"So, you are a wizard," she stated, attempting to start up a conversation.

"Indeed I am," Dumbledore smiled at Pinako. "I'm assuming that Hohenheim did not tell you about his affairs in the Wizarding community, then?"

Pinako blinked in surprise:

"You know Van Hohenheim?"

"Yes, I worked with him on several projects in the past. I am sad to say that he and I have not caught up with one another in a while, though. Is he around?"

Pinako shook her head:

"He left Resembool back when the boys--Edward and Alphonse--were little. We haven't heard from him since."

"Ah," Dumbledore said disappointedly. "That's a shame. So who is raising the boys now, their mother?"

Just as Pinako opened her mouth to answer Dumbledore's question, Edward, Alphonse and Winry walked into the room. Pinako smiled at them.

"Here he is, Professor. Edward, this is Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of--"

"Hogwarts, yeah. I got your letter," Edward said, sitting on the couch across from the wizard. Dumbledore looked Ed over, and then smiled.

"It's an honor to meet you, Edward Elric."

He then turned toward Winry and Al:

"And it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss...?"

"Winry Rockbell, sir," Winry said politely, shaking the wizard's hand. Dumbledore nodded, then offered his hand to Alphonse, looking curiously into his armor.

"Alphonse Elric, sir," Al introduced himself. "I'm Ed's younger brother."

"I see, pleasure to meet you," Dumbledore said, choosing not to ask the young Elric about why he wears the armor, assuming that his question will be answered eventually in the conversation to come. Instead, he sat back down, folding his hands in his lap, looking across the table at Edward.

"So, Mr. Elric, as you know the reason for my sudden visit is to inquire as to why you denied your Hogwarts acceptance."

Edward blinked, took a deep breath, and looked the old wizard in the eye as he stated bluntly:

"I do not believe that magic exists."

 

~~*e.s.*~~


	4. Perspicacious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter in which Albus Dumbledore learns the dark truth behind the Elric's secrecy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Chapter Three: Perspicacious~

 

Professor sat on the sofa across from Edward, intently looking upon the young boy. He very well knew that Edward did not believe in magic--he didn't have to even mention that--but Dumbledore was curious to see if Ed would admit that at all, or if he'd just beat around the bush, suggesting that he was possibly somewhat skeptical about that one small thing and so on and so forth. Dumbledore was pleasantly surprised to find that the boy was not only honest but to the point as well.

"I see," Dumbledore finally said after a pregnant moment of silence between him and Edward. "But it can be assumed that you _are_ solidly convinced of that this was not a prank, correct?"

"Yes, that much is true," Ed agreed. "I thought that too much work was put into this for it to be a prank a while ago, actually."

"Did you feel that way before or after sending me your denial?"

"Before," Ed admitted. "I had other reasons for my denial other than just that suspicion."

"Right. The fact that you do not believe in magic being the main one."

"Yes," Ed agreed, feeling like Dumbledore already knew how he was going to reply to most of his questions and just double-checking, rather than actually asking. _Who_ is _this guy??_

Dumbledore folded his hands in his lap, his unwavering eyes remaining fixated upon Edward, wondering which method of proving magic was real would work best with this skeptic.

"...I wonder if you will humor me, Mr. Elric, by answering a couple of questions about your past?"

Edward felt a lump hop up into his throat; _what kind of questions?_ he wanted to ask the old wizard, but he unfortunately found himself unable to. He glanced at Alphonse, whose helmet was switching back and forth from Dumbledore to his brother and then back to the stranger. He then looked over at Pinako and Winry, both of whom were not looking at either the wizard or Edward. After one last moment of deliberation, Ed nodded stiffly at Dumbledore to proceed. The wizard smiled and began questioning:

"In any point in your childhood, have you ever made something happen, or done something extraordinary that you could not explain?"

Edward thought back, recalling all the times that he and Al did the extraordinary, all the times they had created and fixed things. How he successfully bounded a soul to a suit of armor while losing a huge amount of blood and being on the brink of death himself. But then he shook his head fervently, for all of those things were done through alchemy.

"No, because I was able to find an explanation for everything."

Dumbledore raised an impressed eyebrow:

"Really? Do explain your explanations; I'm interested in hearing about them."

Edward suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable, silently debating whether or not to tell the man that he and his brother studied alchemy together. Dumbledore saw this internal conflict as it occurred and moved to change the subject:

"Let's backtrack a bit and then we'll come back to that question, ok?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Edward said, the relief he felt evident.

"Can you recall your father ever talking to you or your brother about magic?"

"Pssh," Ed retorted. "He was never around to talk to us about _anything_."

Dumbledore looked slightly taken aback at Edward's bitter tone; even as he recalled Pinako telling him that Hohenheim had left them at a young age, he didn't expect such a grudge. After all, Edward was so young when his father left, wasn't he? He stroked his beard thoughtfully as he prodded on:

"Ok, what about your mother? Did she ever mention it?"

Ed shook his head. Dumbledore looked slightly confused; _something's not adding up here..._

"Hohenheim did not marry a witch, Professor," Pinako suddenly piped up. All eyes were suddenly on her; Ed wore an especially surprised expression.

"Wha--??"

"That would explain why Edward and Alphonse know nothing then. Thank you, Ma'am, for clearing that up." Dumbledore smiled and turned back to Edward. "I know your father, Van Hohenheim. He and I have worked on and completed a couple of projects in the past, but I unfortunately have not heard from him in quite some time now. Apparently I'm not the only one, though."

Edward looked even more confused as he stuttered:

"Y-you know my father??"

"Mhmm," Dumbledore said. "Brilliant man, a pleasure to work with."

"Then you...him...if you two are friends, then--"

"Then Van Hohenheim is a wizard, yes. Good, you are catching on!" Dumbledore smiled. Ed and Al gaped at the wizard.

"Dad was...a _wizard_??" Alphonse said excitedly.

"Is," Dumbledore corrected the young Elric, frowning slightly. "I _do_ hope he is well..."

"Impossible; Hohenheim's an _alchemist_ ," Edward said, shaking his head fervently. "There's no way that he could be a wizard."

"It seems there is," Dumbledore said, chiseling through Edward's fervent mental block against all things magic-related. "Alchemy, in many ways, is a form of magic--"

"No, you are WRONG," Edward said defiantly, rising from his seat, eyes blazing. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow; he had apparently struck a nerve. "Alchemy is a form of science," Edward thundered on. "It's what makes the world turn, what makes--!!"

"Or so our dad used to say," Alphonse quickly covered for Ed, placing his hands upon his brother's shoulders and shoving him back down onto the couch. "It kind of caught on, you know."

"Ah. Well, Hohenheim always favored alchemy to wandwork, so it's only sensible that his sons see it in the same light."

"Ok, wait, back up! That still doesn't prove anything about magic existing!" Edward said exasperatedly, really wishing that the old man would just give it up and leave already. Dumbledore began to stroke his beard again.

"This is true. Well then, Edward, pray tell; what will it take to convince you that magic does, in fact, exist?"

Edward thought about this; what _would_ it take?

Dumbledore, however, saw fit to do a sort of presentation for the boy. He extracted his wand with a flourish, looking around the room for a moment or so. After finding an easy target (a wooden broom), he flicked it, transfiguring it into an intricately carved child-sized rocking chair. Though he received several 'ooo's and 'ahh's of impressed-ness from the Rockbells and the suit of armor, Dumbledore was displeased to see that Edward did not even blink.

"Still not convinced?"

"Nope, not at all. For all I know, you very well could have a transmutation circle hidden on your person somewhere."

Dumbledore froze, looking surprised at the kid's terminology.

"...Transmutation circle, huh?"

Ed bit his lip, internally cursing himself out; he just majorly flubbed.

"...So am I right to assume that you and your brother have taken up alchemy, just as your father before you did?"

Edward and Alphonse nodded, looking down and away from the man. Dumbledore looked both pleased and shocked, wondering what had struck that interest into them since their father was not around.

"How long have you two been practicing?"

"A while..." said Ed, twiddling his thumbs, not meeting the wizard's eyes. Dumbledore nodded, wondering why this bright boy wasn't openly bragging about his talents. _He's obviously hiding something, something I need to know._

"Ok, then it seems that I will have to do better than a simple _transmutation_ , as you called it, to convince you of magic's existence. How's this?" he asked as the china cabinet behind him caught fire. Immediately Pinako rose from her chair in outrage, but Dumbledore held a hand up to stop her. He then flicked his wand and the flames evaporated on the spot, leaving the cabinet looking completely unscathed. He looked back at Ed:

"Well?"

"You could still be using a form of flame alchemy to torch the wood..." he said a bit uncertainty.

"But how does that explain the fact that the cabinet is not burnt at all?" Dumbledore prodded. Edward struggled for a minute, and then slumped, shrugging at the old wizard.

Dumbledore smiled:

"Are you at least somewhat skeptical now, rather than completely set against it?"

Edward shrugged again:

"I suppose the possibility _is_ out there, but my thing is that I simply can't bring myself to accept something so... _unscientific_."

"Ah, and a man of science such as yourself does not want to have to bow before an invisible force greater than your own."

"Yes!" Edward exclaimed, then froze. "Ok, how do you do that?"

"Do what?" Dumbledore asked innocently.

"Take the words right out of my mouth like that!"

"Oh. Well, I've always been known to be especially perspicacious."

Everyone stared at the old wizard as if he had just spoken complete gibberish to them. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Come now, Edward, surely you are able to find the Latin root in that and work out the meaning from it. After all--if you are as skilled of an alchemist as I have assumed you are, having the blood of Hohenheim running through your veins--you should be relatively fluent in the ancient language, yes?"

Edward frowned, tapping a finger upon his chin. After about a minute or so of contemplation, he spoke slowly:

"...the only word I can think of as its derivative is...per...no, perspicācitās. Yeah, that sounds about right," he looked back up at Dumbledore. "So you've always been known to be especially sharp and insightful?"

Dumbledore looked extremely impressed.

"Yes. Very good; you certainly _have_ inherited your father's brightness, haven't you?"

Edward fumed; he was getting reeeeally tired of being constantly compared to that bastard Hohenheim. Dumbledore regained his serious composure and leaned forward in his seat, looking Edward in the eye.

"...And this also tells me that you are far more skilled in alchemy than you have let on. And it's very likely that Alphonse here has followed closely in your footsteps. And yet there is still _something missing_ , something so great that no matter the amount of perspicacity I contain within me, I cannot figure it out..."

Edward and Alphonse looked at each other. They knew that he was determined to find out, and that he would eventually weed it out of them anyway, even if they refused to tell him. The answers they provided to his numerous questions gave away more than the two boys thought they did, unfortunately, thanks to Dumbledore's keenness. True, he did not seem hostile in any way at all, but after all, they had just met the man tonight. He was still very much a stranger to them, appearing on their doorstep, preaching of the wonders of magic and some far-away school of wizardry called Hogwarts.

"...Should we tell him, Al? Can we trust him?"

"I don't know, brother...Professor Dumbledore, sir? May I ask you a question?"

"Certainly," Dumbledore said, directing his attention towards Alphonse.

"If brother is a...a wizard, does that mean that I'm one too?"

"Yes it does. You will most certainly be receiving your Hogwarts letter next year, the summer after you turn eleven," Dumbledore reassured the young alchemist, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. "Glad you asked."

"Brother, did you hear that??" Alphonse asked excitedly. "We can go together!"

"So you're convinced that the school exists, Al?" Ed said, raising his eyebrows at his younger brother.

"Yep. I wasn't as skeptical as you were though...you still are skeptical, aren't you?" Al said, the excitement in his tone of voice faltering slightly. Ed blinked, and then looked back at Dumbledore. He really didn't want to tell him anything more, _especially_ not about their mistake, their crime...that's right. Human transmutation is a crime, after all. This man could turn them in...and then there would be no way for his little brother to go to Hogwarts. Even if Edward didn't completely believe in magic or that this school was for real, Alphonse obviously did. And what kind of brother would Edward be to cost Alphonse an opportunity to go to this school that he is so excited about?

After relinquishing a deep sigh, he spoke:

"I'll tell you everything, Professor, only if you promise that if worse comes to worse, you will not punish Alphonse for his past actions. I don't really care if you keep me from going to Hogwarts because of this, given the fact that it was all my fault that it happened anyway--"

"Brother, stop it, it was--" Alphonse began to protest, raising a large hand to his brother.

"Let me finish, Alphonse."

Alphonse stopped, then lowered his hand, nodding at his brother to continue. Dumbledore rested his chin upon his hands, listening intently to Edward's confession.

"...I'll tell you only if you promise not to keep Alphonse from going to Hogwarts next year."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, thinking this over. Depending on the seriousness of whatever they have done--how serious could it be, though? They're just kids, after all--him allowing either of the Elric brother’s attendance into Hogwarts could anger the Ministry of Magic greatly. Nonetheless, he looked Edward in the eye as he agreed to his terms, bracing himself for the worst, expecting something far less.

Edward looked once more at Alphonse, then looked back towards Dumbledore as he began:

"About four or so years after Hohenheim left me, my brother and our mom, a horrible plague swept through Resembool, and she caught it and died from it. Al and I felt so alone after that, enough that we became determined to find a way to bring her back, using alchemy--even though the law states that any form of human transmutation was forbidden..." Edward paused here, biting his lip as he tried to figure out how to go on.

"We just wanted to see her smile again, wanted to hear he say that she loves us one more time," Alphonse piped up. Edward swallowed and nodded:

"Yeah, that's right. So we studied with a brilliant alchemy teacher for the next three years after that, trying to become great, great enough to achieve the impossible. Together we came up with a theory that I had thought was flawless, but then...then, when we a-actually did it..." Edward swallowed again, forcing himself to continue on:

"It rebounded. The Gate opened up and took my left leg and Alphonse's entire body as payment. Equivalent exchange, I suppose, for trying to bring someone back from the other side."

Edward leaned over, placing his left leg upon the coffee table, pulling up his pant leg so that Dumbledore could see his automail. The old wizard's eyes widened slightly as Edward continued on:

"After regaining consciousness after the rebound, I saw that Alphonse was gone and in desperation grabbed this suit of armor from the corner of the room and drew a seal in it, trading my right arm for Al's soul so that I could transmute it into the armor." He sighed as he then rolled up his shirt sleeve to show Dumbledore his automail arm, then nodded at Al to take off his helmet. Dumbledore stood from the couch and walked over to Alphonse, looking closely at the seal.

"...It looks as if it was written in blood," he said after a moment's pause.

"It was. My blood," Edward said. Dumbledore looked at the boy incredulously:

"So you managed to bind your little brother's soul to a suit of armor even whilst nearly _bleeding to death_??"

"I had to!" Edward exclaimed, standing up defensively. He stopped, however, and took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing:

"I had to...he's my little brother. Al's all I have left."

Professor Dumbledore looked upon Alphonse with pity as the boy replaced his helmet upon his hollow body, then looked back at Edward as he sat back down onto the couch. He sighed, placing his head in his hands as he thought for a moment or so about what he had just heard come out of this eleven-year-old's mouth. A child should not have to go through all that Edward and Alphonse Elric have, should not have to live the rest of their life not just without a few of their limbs (or in poor Alphonse's case, trapped within a suit or armor), but full of guilt for something that was not entirely their fault. _How awful that must feel_ thought the Professor, shaking his head.

"...I admit, I was not expecting anything of nearly this magnitude of severity," Dumbledore said darkly, his head in his hands.

Edward felt his heart leap into his throat as he suddenly found himself regretting admitting this huge sin to the wizard. He knew that the wizard would react this way, and now he probably just blew his and Al's chances of attending Hogwarts! They were in trouble now, he just knew it...

Dumbledore looked up from his hands and saw a pamphlet sitting on the coffee table in front of him, staring at its title in curiosity. After quickly reading the cover, he immediately understood Edward's current feelings, and with that he looked back at the young Elric.

"Your story is an...an extraordinary one, that's for sure. But, my dear boy, why are you so worried about you and Alphonse not being allowed into Hogwarts because of this?"

Edward blinked in shock:

"B-because human transmutation is against the law."

"This is true, and it is also true that I will have to consult the Ministry of Magic about waving this crime, but after that I do not see why you two wouldn't be allowed into my school of magic. After all, you two are just boys, boys who miss their mother dearly."

Ed and Al nodded in agreement as the headmaster continued:

"It's quite obvious to me that you two possess great magical abilities within you. It's evident in not only your bloodline, but in your alchemy. It would be a shame to let such talent go to waste."

Edward sat dumbfounded across from Dumbledore.

"...So you're saying that our talents in alchemy exist because we're wizards."

"Precisely."

Edward ran a hand through his hair, wondering what to make of that. He looked over at Granny Pinako:

"Would I even be well enough by September first to go?"

Pinako pursed her lips slightly, thinking about his question. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows:

"...Was your automail surgery a recent procedure? Is that the health issue you spoke of in your letter?"

"He just had this surgery in late February," Pinako explained, shaking her head at Ed as she continued to think through Ed's question. Dumbledore once again looked impressed at the young boy's strength to recover as far as he has after only six months of rehab. His knowledge of automail surgery was slimmer than most other things he was knowledgeable of, but he did know that most grown people would take several years of rehab in order to just get to Edward's level of recovery.

"I don't see why not," Pinako finally answered. "As long as you don't do anything stupid between now and September first, you should be fine. And am I right to assume that he won't be doing anything strenuous while at Hogwarts?"

"Yes ma'am," Dumbledore assured Pinako. "The most strenuous thing he shall be doing is waving a magic wand."

 _Waving a magic wand_ , Edward scoffed at the ridiculousness. _Yeah, right_.

"Are you going?" Winry suddenly asked, looking eagerly towards Edward. He shrugged; Dumbledore chuckled:

"You are welcome at Hogwarts, and I do hope you plan on going. I will have to ask you to keep your prosthetics well-covered, however, and I will ask you not to perform any alchemy while at the school."

"I was definitely planning on doing both should I choose to attend, whether or not you were going to ask me to do so," Edward said, grinning slightly. "Guess your perspicacity is catching, Professor."

"Oh, good," Dumbledore said happily, clasping his hands together.

"...I haven't transmuted anything since that day, anyway," Edward said under his breath, glancing over at his brother, who was looking expectantly at him. "What?"

"Well? _Are_ you going to Hogwarts?"

Edward blinked; why was everyone pushing him to go?? He turned back towards Dumbledore without answering his brother.

"...One more question, sir, about the supplies and book lists."

"Go on."

"Where am I supposed to buy that stuff?"

"Diagon Alley," Pinako piped up, once again, to everyone's surprise. Edward gaped at her:

"...You know, I don't even want to know how you know all of this--"

"You forget, Edward, that Hohenheim and I were drinking buddies. And people tend to let a lot slip out when they are under the influence of alcohol."

"'Tis very true," Dumbledore said with a knowing look in his eye.

"And I have the key to his Gringotts vault as well," Pinako continued, standing up and walking over to the china cabinet Dumbledore had just 'burned' moments ago and extracting a small golden key from one of its many drawers. She tossed it to Edward as she sat back down in her chair. "Your mother said he had given it to her for you boys.’They'll need it when they turn of age,' he said, though neither of us knew what Gringotts was or what exactly Hohenheim meant by you two 'turning of age.'"

"It's a wizard's bank in Diagon Alley," Dumbledore explained matter-of-factly.

"And where _is_ Diagon Alley?" Edward asked confusedly.

"In London--oh, I see now. We do have a slight problem concerning location," Dumbledore said, tapping his chin. "Ah, I know what we'll do. I will send you an owl in two weeks’ time explaining everything--that is, if you truly are interested in attending this year. Have you made your decision yet, Mr. Elric?"

All eyes on him, Edward thought back to everything he and the mysterious stranger had discussed. He was still skeptical, though only slightly so. Enough to make him question the laws of alchemy, or laws of _anything_ , really. Is all he thought he knew meaningless now that magic has been thrust into the picture? He had to know, he had to find out...

But he had to get Alphonse his body back before he did anything else, and with that he firmly shook his head:

"I need to get Alphonse his body back. I can't be distracted by anything else until I do so...Thank you very much for your time, Professor Dumbledore, but I must refuse--"

"What if you find a way to get your brother's body and your arm and leg back that _doesn't_ involve the military while at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore said suddenly, holding up the pamphlet he had stumbled upon when sitting on the sofa next to the coffee table. Edward stared at it, the words printed upon the front cover seemingly mocking him; when he looked up into Dumbledore's eyes, Ed could see that they had regained their serious sheen, the same glint they had when Dumbledore was being told of how the Elric brothers lost their bodies. "Magic is capable of much, much more than you can even imagine. Though it is not an all-powerful force, it can do great, powerful things when one knows how to utilize it to its full potential. You will learn how to do so while at Hogwarts, and who knows, you may find a way to restore yourselves without becoming one of these State Alchemists."

Edward gaped at Dumbledore, taking in the meaning of his words, struggling to fully register what he had just said. Before he could speak again, though, Dumbledore shrugged, tossing the pamphlet back onto the table.

"But, it is your choice, after all. If a soldier is what you strive to be, then so be it. I do not want to interfere with your plans."

The wizard then stood up, politely shaking Pinako's hand once more.

"I have intruded upon you all for long enough, now. It was a pleasure to meet you, Edward, and Alphonse; I do hope to hear from you in a year's time."

"Yes, of course, Professor, sir!" Alphonse stuttered as he shook the headmaster's hand again. Dumbledore kindly smiled once more at everyone as he bid them a good evening and made his way to the door...

"...Wait."

Dumbledore smiled as he turned back to face Edward, who had stood up from the couch and was now walking over to where the wizard was. He stopped right in front of the old man, his head tilted up towards Dumbledore's, looking him in the eye as he spoke:

"What you said, about there being another way. Were you telling the truth?"

Dumbledore nodded seriously:

"I do not lie to my students, Edward."

Edward blinked, and then grinned widely at his new headmaster, his golden eyes shining with newfound determination.

"...Then I guess I'll just have to make myself one of your students," he said with finality, offering his hand out to Dumbledore, who took it with great enthusiasm:

"I knew you would not disappoint, Edward Elric. You will be hearing from me soon."

As he relinquished the boy's hand, however, he looked around the room, his eyebrows suddenly knitting together concernedly as he remembered something.

"...Have any of you seen a little barn owl around here? She's the one I sent you, Edward. Do you know where she went?"

"Here she is!" Alphonse said, pointing at the little owl who not only seemed to be hiding, but also glaring at Professor Dumbledore with an accusing look that growled _who do you think you're calling 'little?!'_

"Ah, there she is. She seems to be hiding from me, doesn't she?" he chuckled. "I think she has gotten attached to you all..."

 _Oh no_ , Edward thought with dread, not liking where this was going...

"...Perhaps you should keep her, Edward. An owl will come in handy for you at Hogwarts anyhow. Look at it as a gift, from your happy new headmaster."

Edward blinked, forcing a faux-gracious smile onto his face.

"Thanks so much, Professor!"

"Anytime. I shall talk to you in two weeks’ time. Ta-ta for now!"

And with that he was gone. Just...gone. Edward, Pinako, Winry and Alphonse stared at the spot he was standing at just a few seconds ago in shock. Pinako was the first of them to break the silence:

"That Professor sure was something, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, all that magic he did--I hope you two get to be that good someday!" Winry said excitedly, looking back at Alphonse who happily nodded in agreement.

Edward shook his head, turning and glowering at the owl.

"...No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get rid of you, could I??"

The owl blinked, hopping over to her new master, her adorable round, black eyes staring into his glaring amber ones (though his glare had softened out significantly. How could he be pissed at that adorable-ness?). Winry piped up:

"Well, since Dumbledore gave her to you, you should be the one to finally name her."

Edward sighed, gently picking the owl up from the floor and setting her onto his shoulder.

"...Nova. That's her name."

"That's actually really pretty," Winry said, impressed at Ed's name choice.

"It has a meaning behind it, doesn't it?" Al inquired. "What language?"

"Latin, of course," Ed said, yanking his hair out of the owl's beak as he turned to face Al.

"It means a new beginning."

 

~~*e.s.*~~


	5. Apothecaries, Cauldrons and Wands--Oh My!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edward and co. must go shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Chapter Four: Apothecaries, Cauldrons and Wands--Oh My!~

 

Dawn was breaking by the time Professor Dumbledore arrived back at Hogwarts after his successful trip to Resembool, and he could see a cool, silver mist rising from the emerald grass in front of the castle. As he strode down the path towards the front doors, he caught sight of his headmistress also making her way towards the school's entrance. Dumbledore smiled as he lifted his hand to greet her.

"What brings you out here so early, Professor McGonagall?" Dumbledore inquired as he approached her. She looked up from the papers she was reading from.

"A few owls brought more acceptance replies and I wished to fetch them before I got busy doing other preparation tasks," McGonagall informed the headmaster. "And how was your trip, sir?"

"It went very well; I managed to convince Mr. Elric to join us at Hogwarts this year." Dumbledore paused to extract his wand as the two of them found themselves alee the giant entrance of the castle. After a quick flick of his wand, the gargantuan doors began to creak open for the two Professors. "...Unfortunately, I was not able to reconnect with Van Hohenheim, though, for he had apparently left Resembool several years ago."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows at the headmaster:

"You mean he left his son and wife alone in Resembool?"

"No, he left his _two_ sons alone in Resembool. They're mother didn't last much longer after Hohenheim left her and the boys."

Professor McGonagall's eyes widened, her usually severe-looking face softened with sorrow for the Elrics. "That's awful! Those poor, poor boys..."

"I wholeheartedly agree."

Dumbledore looked around the hall for a moment, checking to make sure that nobody was unintentionally eavesdropping upon their conversation. Turning back to McGonagall, he spoke, his volume lowered a bit:

"If you have a moment I would like to discuss this further upstairs in my office. There is much more to Edward Elric's situation than I had anticipated and I find myself in a predicament in which I must have your help in persuading the Ministry to overlook a bit of the boy's past."

Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement immediately, her heartbeat pitching suddenly. What kind of past did Edward have that required Dumbledore to involve the Ministry of Magic in?

 

~~*e.s.*~~

It was not that he had not dreamed of this before, but simply of how altered the dream became. Rather than coming forth in the form of a nightmare, it presented itself like a future blessing, a promise for redemption. A promise that his journey into the world of magic will be fruitful...a promise that he and Al will regain their bodies...But just as Edward's dream form reached out a non-metal hand out to his brother, he awoke instead, basking in the sneering moonlight of the real world.

Edward sighed, slumping back down onto the pillow, frustrated at himself from awakening from such a good dream. As he laid back and tried to go back to sleep, he found himself thinking hopefully about his future at Hogwarts. He wondered what it would be like there, whether it would be one big cliché, just as the supplies list leads him to believe, or if it would be just like a regular school. He figured that he would unfortunately still have homework and exams and all of the tiresome traits of student work. But he wondered about his classes; how and what would he be taught? Would they be logical or are they going to be full of ridiculous superstitions? What if he was no good at anything because of his scientific mind? Ed laughed to himself; who would have ever thought that having great knowledge of science would one day be a hindrance to him?? He closed his eyes tiredly, breathing slowly, feeling a mixture of excitement and anticipation for what awaits him in the near future...

His peaceful thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the feeling of sharp talons landing upon his stomach. With an annoyed 'OOF!,' Edward lifted his head to see the round, precious eyes of his owl, Nova looking back at him.

 _Hi there!_ she blinked, hopping onto his chest softly as if purposely trying not to hurt her master again.

"...Hey, Nova," Ed muttered to his new pet, gently ruffling her feathers. "Are you excited about going to Hogwarts, too?"

Nova blinked again, cocking her head slightly as if saying _what kind of dumb question is that? _Ed chuckled at her expression, resting his automail upon his chest, allowing the enthralled owl to peck at it.

Though he was not about to admit it to Alphonse or Winry, he was beginning to develop a sort of soft spot for the little owl. It was just barely developing, but he did not despise the thing nearly as much as before, and she truly was proving to be much more smart and useful

to him than he would've ever expected from her. And she certainly was attached to Edward, that much was true (though Ed fervently claimed that it was only because she was attracted to his shiny automail).

Suddenly, Nova leapt off of Edward onto the bedspread and flew out of the open window, leaving Ed confusedly looking out the window after her. After a short moment or so, though, Nova swiftly returned, bearing a dead mouse within her talons this time. She dropped it into Ed's lap, setting herself down onto the bedspread in front of him. Ed scrunched his face up in disgust:

"Gee...thanks, Nova."

He could've sworn that the owl was laughing at him as she soared once more out the window into the night.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

"...Human transmutation?" McGonagall said in disbelief. "But... _how_?? How were two _boys_ able to do such a thing?"

"They possess unbelievable alchemic skills, Professor," Dumbledore said gravely. "Though they were too ashamed of their past actions to brag or demonstrate their alchemy to me, I believe it is safe to assume that they have truly lived up to the name of Hohenheim in their studies. And they are mostly self-taught at that."

"So they learned all this alchemy in order to try and resurrect their mother," McGonagall clarified. Dumbledore nodded once:

"They were alone and scared. They've been alone since the day she died; they only wanted their mother's love again. That is all."

"Then I cannot see why the Ministry of Magic would persecute them for that. They're so _young_ , they did not understand the consequences, and on top of that they were so sure it would work that they did not think ahead..." McGonagall suddenly frowned slightly:

"You said that the elder brother, Edward now has two automail limbs? Will he be well enough to attend Hogwarts at all?"

Dumbledore nodded, the memory of the boy's strength shining like a thin mist within his eyes.

"Edward has recovered quickly from his surgery. Though his rehabilitation process is not yet complete, I do not see how that could keep him from attending school. I will need to talk it through with Madam Pomfrey, she knows much more about such things than the both of us."

"Yes," McGonagall said. "And as long as he does not try for Quidditch this year, Edward shouldn't be under any sort of taxing situation while here. Perhaps we can work it out with Madam Pomfrey to check-up on his automail once every month?"

"Yes, that is a very good idea. Though we'll have to conceal said check-ups; I do not wish for the other students to know of the Elric's alchemic disaster."

Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement. Just then, a loud, booming knock was heard upon the doors to the headmaster's office.

"Come in, Hagrid!" Professor Dumbledore called out. The gamekeeper entered quickly so as to not keep Dumbledore waiting on him, hitting his head upon the door frame in the process.

"...M-mornin' Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, sir. Ye called, sir?"

"Yes, I did," Dumbledore said, standing up from his desk. "I wanted to inquire upon how your shopping trip with Harry Potter went?"

"Oh, it went very well, sir! He got all o' his supplies, and I gave him his ticket. Got him a pretty snowy owl as a birthday present, too," he said, his eyes shining as bright as his smile. Dumbledore looked pleased:

"Wonderful! Thank you again for doing that for me, Hagrid."

"Anytime, Professor. An' how did yer meeting with that one student--what was his name again?--go, sir?"

"Ah, yes; Edward has decided to attend Hogwarts this year after all."

"That's great, sir!" Hagrid said happily. The headmaster nodded in agreement as he continued:

"And now, I'm afraid I must ask you to go on one last mission for me, before the school year starts. If you could in a fortnight take Mr. Elric to get his supplies in Diagon Alley, Hagrid, I would be truly appreciative."

The gamekeeper regained his professional composure as he nodded in agreement.

"Of course, sir. Where should I pick him up?"

Dumbledore paused for a moment, stroking his beard thoughtfully. It would be easy to send Hagrid off to the Rockbell Prosthetic Limb Outfitters to pick Edward up and take him to London, but then Dumbledore remembered Alphonse. He would like for the younger Elric to be able to visit Diagon Alley as well so that he could become somewhat familiar with the Wizarding world before he himself is to become a part of it. Also, he felt that the two Elric brothers weren't the type of siblings to easily separate.

"...I think I will simply have you meet the Elrics at the Leaky Cauldron, Hagrid. And then from there you can take Edward to do his shopping. I may send Pinako Rockbell with them, too, seeing as that she has played the part of their guardian since the day their mother died."

Hagrid nodded vigorously:

"You have my word that Mr. Elric will get all o' his supplies and will get back home safely from Diagon Alley, sir."

"I trust that he will, Hagrid. I've not a worry in my mind," Dumbledore said, smiling once more at Hagrid before the gamekeeper exited the headmaster's office. McGonagall shook her head, causing Dumbledore to raise a confused eyebrow at the headmistress:

"Something is bothering you, Professor?"

"Nothing sir," she said, amusedly glancing back at the doors in which the gamekeeper had just retreated through only moments ago. "Nothing at all."

Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes shimmering over his half-moon glasses as if he had just heard the headmistress tell an especially humorous joke.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

{approximately two weeks later}

Edward yawned hugely as Winry tinkered with his automail arm that morning. Still in his nightclothes, he was begrudgingly lounging upon the couch instead of partaking in the consumption of Granny Pinako's delicious-smelling breakfast. The heavenly scent of frying bacon wafting into his bedroom is what woke him up that morning in the first place, but he was unfortunate enough to be bulldozed into the living room by Winry before he could make a run for the kitchen table.

"...You haven't been wiping your arm and leg off properly after showering, Ed," the mechanic scolded as she polished the automail. "I can tell."

"I have so," Ed said defensively. "Maybe not every time...but I do when I remember to."

"Hmph," Winry said, shaking her head. Ed rolled his eyes at her; just because she saw the automail as a beautiful piece of machinery that should be doted upon hourly doesn't mean that everyone else should!

At last she removed her polishing cloth from the prosthetic, standing up and allowing Ed to leave the sofa.

"Your poor automail is going to suffer majorly once you get away from me and go off to Hogwarts. I just know it."

"Aw, come on, Winry!" Ed said, grinning at her statement of unfaithfulness in Ed's automail matinence. "I swear I'll take care of it."

"You _better_ take care of it!" she said, wagging a threatening wrench in his face. He pushed it away as he hurried into the kitchen for breakfast, his crazy mechanic following close behind.

"Hey Al," he greeted as he took his place at the kitchen table next to where Al was already seated.

"Morning, brother."

"Smells good, Granny!" Ed said, turning to face the old woman as she scooped scrambled eggs from the frying pan onto a large plate. After setting said plate down onto the table, she smirked, walking back over to the fridge and extracted three small, glass bottles of milk. Edward pointedly ignored her as she made her way back to the table, sitting across from him and setting a bottle of milk next to his and Winry's plates. Al stifled a laugh as his older brother commenced in staring down the white liquid. It glared back at him, too, its invisible eyes relentless in its glower of hatred...

"...Hey Ed, it's been about two weeks, now, hasn't it?" Winry piped up suddenly. Ed broke contact with the milk and looked at the girl questionably. "Two weeks since Dumbledore visited," she clarified. Ed tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully.

"...Huh, you're right. I should get an owl from him sometime today, I suppose."

"Can I go with you to get your school supplies?" Al asked eagerly. Ed smiled and nodded at his brother:

"Of course, I was gonna bring you with me whether or not you wanted to anyway."

 Al didn't know whether to feel flattered by such a statement or threatened.

"Do you have the key I gave you?" Granny Pinako asked. "The one to Hohenheim's vault? You'll need that when you go to Diagon Alley."

Ed frowned:

"I've decided that I'm not going to use any of that bastard's money for school supplies; I don't want anything to do with his vault. I set the key back into its proper drawer, Granny, don't worry."

"Ed, you really don't have a choice. You either use Hohenheim's money or you don't go to Hogwarts," Pinako said firmly, immediately shooting down Ed's childish arguing. Ed visibly disapproved though he begrudgingly knew she was right. Who knew how much all of the weird supplies he needed was going to cost, and truth be told the Rockbells did not have any to loan to him. They barely had enough to sustain his beastly appetite, after all.

"Now drink your milk," the old lady ordered. Just as Ed opened his big mouth wide to screech in outlandish protest, however, there came a clamorous _BANG!!_ All four of their heads turned towards where the sound came from; the partially opened kitchen window located over the sink. There, in front of the sink, sat a large owl with pointed feathers sticking out from each corner of his head, an envelope secured beneath it's long talons, its dark reddish-brown feathers shining in the morning sun streaming through the window. What caused the noise, Edward saw, was his own little barn owl, who had clumsily rammed into the closed half of the window as she hurriedly followed the unknown owl to her master's location. The bigger owl turned its head to look scornfully upon klutzy little Nova, who was currently returning the screech owl's expression with her own piercing gaze of pure menace.

"Ohh! Poor Nova!" Winry exclaimed, walking over to the window to check on the poor thing.

"Eh, she'll be fine," Ed said, waving an unconcerned automail hand at his pet. Nova did not take too kindly to this; she aggressively shoved the bigger owl out of her way, hopping into the house and soaring across the room towards her master. After initially pecking his extended automail, she then landed atop his head, irritatingly picking at his bangs. Ed swatted at Nova with no avail, eventually giving up after receiving an irritated peck to the forehead in return of his swatting.

"Why must you be so mean to your owl, brother?" Al asked exasperatedly.

"Hey, she started it!!" Ed said, huffingly crossing his arms. Winry raised an eyebrow at Ed as she swiped the envelope away from the screech owl, observing its parchment envelope. Sure enough, the letter was addressed to a _Mister E. Elric_ , and the letter was sealed tight with the Hogwarts crest upon dark purple wax. Upon opening it, she found a hand-written letter signed _Professor Dumbledore._

Pinako walked over to Winry and, after setting the pile of dirty plates in her hands into the sink behind her granddaughter, read the letter over her shoulder, nodding in approval. The large owl that had delivered the letter to them pecked Pinako on her shoulder just then; she turned and face it, a questioning look upon her elderly face. The screech owl stuck out his foot, motioning for the old lady to remove the parcel that was tied tightly to its leg. Pinako blinked, and then obliged the owl, taking the emerald-colored drawstring bag from the messenger.

"ACK--stop it, Nova!! Hey guys, can I see my letter now??" Edward screeched impatiently, crossing the room with some difficulty due to the enraged owl still messing with his hair. Al started to move to help his brother but decided against it at the last minute. Nova was his owl to deal with, and after all, Ed's antics with her were very entertaining to watch. Once he arrived in front of Winry, he snatched the parchment from her hands, huffily reading what Dumbledore wrote:

_Dearest Edward,_

_Hope you and your brother are well. As promised I have made arrangements for you to go to London and purchase your necessities for the school year. Enclosed with this letter is a bag of Floo Powder--a glittering powder used by wizards to travel and communicate using fireplaces._

_To use this method of transportation, you simply need to step into your unlit fireplace, grab a small handful of powder and say the name of the place that you wish to travel to. It's very fast and convenient, and I've enclosed enough powder to send you and two others to and from London safely. Once in London, a representative from Hogwarts shall meet up with you all and then escort you to Diagon Alley. Do not worry, for he is very familiarized with the area and will assist you in every which way you may need assistance, and it is at that time that you will also receive your train ticket for the September first Hogwarts Express._

_He will meet you in a pub just outside of Diagon Alley called 'The Leaky Cauldron,' therefore you must say the title of said pub instead of London when you use the Floo Powder--otherwise you may very well end up in some other random place in this totally foreign city and become lost forever._

_Hope you find your wizarding shopping experience to be both an interesting and enjoyable one. I shall see you at the beginning of term, Mr. Elric!_

_Sincerely, Professor Dumbledore_

Edward looked up at Granny (who still had the parcel in her hand) and Winry:

"...There's only enough Floo Powder to take two people with me. Al has to go, so which one of you two wants to go more?"

Pinako and Winry looked at each other undecidedly:

"I've already been to the Leaky Cauldron before a couple of times in my life. Why don't you go with them, Winry?"

"I'd love to, but I think it would be best for me to stay and you go with them, Granny. I've got some stuff I need to work on here at home today, and you are already somewhat familiar with everything there. You'd be of more use than me."

Pinako gave Winry an _are you sure?_ look; Winry smiled with certainty in return. Pinako sighed:

"Alright then, we'll leave in fifteen minutes, boys. Ed, you need to go get ready--and don't forget to get that key out from the cabinet."

Nova momentarily stopped picking at Ed's hair long enough to shoot Granny a curious, questioning look; _key? As in, shiny??_

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

"Hey Al, have you seen my other boot? I can't find it..."

Ed got up from the floor, looking back at his brother. Alphonse glanced around his brother's room, getting a decent bird's-eye of the area due to his massive height. After a moment of scanning the room, Al lifted up his large hand and pointed towards a corner of the room:

"There," he said, and Ed hurried over to where he was pointing, a satisfied look flitting across his face as he spotted his boot.

"Thanks Al," Ed said as he hastily shoved his foot into the shoe, for the both of them could already hear Granny calling them from the living room. Edward stood, grabbing his red coat from the bed and looking up at his brother. He sighed, then offered up a small smile:

"Ready to get this over with?"

"Aw, come on, brother. I'm more excited than you are!"

"Yeah, yeah...I hope they have a good bookstore in that alley..."

They ran into the living room, Edward twisting his hair into a braid as he thought over what Dumbledore had said in his letter about travelling by Floo Powder. _You simply need to step into your unlit fireplace, grab a small handful of powder and say the name of the place that you wish to travel to._

"Ok...where are we to meet that guy at again?"

"The Leaky Cauldron in London. Just clearly say 'Leaky Cauldron' and you should get to the right place," Granny said, tossing him the bag of powder. "You go first, Ed."

"M-me? Why me?"

"You're the man," Pinako said simply, drawing an entertained laugh out of Winry, who was working at the workbench to the far right of the three of them. "You can show us how it's all done. Don't worry, we'll follow."

Ed shot his mechanic a quick glare, then took a deep breath, looking into the fireplace nervously.

"I'm gonna feel really stupid if this doesn't work..." he muttered to himself, opening the bag and looking warily inside. The powder looked very similar to gun powder, the only difference being the overall green glittery-ness. After grabbing a small handful of the stuff in his left hand, he handed the parcel to Al, then warily stepped into the fireplace, turning to face them. _Here goes nothing_ he thought to himself as he raised his fist full of Floo Powder up above his head...

"The Leaky Cauldron!"

Edward felt as though he was being sucked down a giant drain. He seemed to be spinning very fast - the roaring in his ears was deafening--he tried to keep his eyes open but the whirl of green flames made him feel sick--now it felt as though cold hands were slapping his face. Ed saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond. He closed his eyes again, wishing it would stop, and then he finally fell, face forward, flat onto a cold stone floor. He scrambled onto his feet, feeling extremely dizzy as he brushed the gray ashes off of his clothing.

The inside of the Leaky Cauldron looked like any other grubby little pub. Ed figured from the looks of things that the outside looked just like the inside and figured that it's the type of place that he wouldn't think to look twice upon if he were just wandering down the street. It was very dark and shabby, and there weren't too many customers at the moment. A couple of older women were smoking in one corner, a small group of people were eating and drinking at a table in the center of the pub, and two guys were drinking at the bar. Nothing too special about the place, really; at least, nothing Ed could see...

"Edward Elric, I presume?"

Ed looked up in surprise; the person who spoke his name was the bartender, a man with a large nose, graying hair with large sideburns, and dark brown eyes. He was polishing as glass as he observed Ed, who eventually snapped out of his dizziness and nodded once in answer to the bartender's question. Tom smiled in a friendly manner:

"Oh good; I was told you were going to be here today--"

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH--!!!!!!"

THUD.

"Al!" Ed yelled, running over to the fireplace where his little brother was shakily emerging from, his armor shaking apprehensively.

"That was...so _weird!_ " he remarked, clamoring up from the floor and looking down at his brother. "Did you make it ok? You're covered with soot..."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Just then, one more set of bright green flames erupted from the fireplace, and Pinako Rockbell emerged shakily, only slightly worse for wear.

"...Well. I've never traveled by Floo before, but I must say it's very fast, even if a bit messy." She looked down at her dress and wrinkled her nose in annoyance, setting to work at dusting herself off best she could.

"Why it isn't..."

Pinako looked up at the voice which spoke; Ed and Al followed suite curiously. Tom, the bartender, peered over the bar, his face erupting into a large smile:

"Pinako Rockbell! I certainly haven't seen you around here in many years!"

Granny Pinako smiled in recognition, walking up to the bar and firmly shaking the bartender's hand:

"Good to see you, Tom."

Ed and Al glanced at each other in confusion, and then shrugged, both deciding at the same time that they'd rather not know.

"Come, sit down!" the bartender said, gesturing to a barstool. "What can I get you, the usual? Or not so usual anymore, I suppose. It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

"Hah, that's the truth. I'm not really here to drink anything today, though. I've got to assist Ed here in getting his school supplies. Maybe some other time, yes?"

"Most certainly, Pinako! And bring Hohenheim with ya next time, you hear?"

Pinako laughed without humor:

"I will if I can find him, Tom! Talk to you later, then."

 "Yes, you must keep in touch! And as for Edward...Hagrid!" the bartender called out into the crowd. A bushy-haired man looked up from his table, then quickly stood up and walked over to the bar. "Edward Elric is here. Edward, this man is the man to be your escort today."

Ed looked up and froze on the spot; the man standing in front of him and his brother was absolutely gargantuan! His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could just make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all that hair. Edward angrily felt himself internally become the shrimp that everyone made him out to be as he tilted his head way up to look into the giant's face.

"Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. Pleasure to meet you, Edward!"

The hand that Hagrid extended out to Edward was even bigger than the palms of Al's armor; Ed felt as if his fist was going to be eaten alive by the sheer enormity of the handshake. He did not feel threatened, however, for the gamekeeper's friendly smile was as genuine as Tom the bartenders--possibly even more so, actually.

"Ah, and this must be young Alphonse! Dumbledore told me you'd be arriving in full armor, though he did not tell me why...ah, no matter," Hagrid blabbered as he shook Alphonse's hand.

"N-nice to meet you, sir," Al said, feeling a bit caught off-guard about the giant's commentary about his armor. Upon glance, he could see that Ed was concerned about that too.

"We need to quickly come up with an excuse for your armor, Al," Ed hissed as Hagrid introduced himself to Pinako. "Something that you can have prepared to tell people who ask."

"Right," Al said, trying to think of something quickly. "How about 'it's a hobby?'"

"What kind of hobby is _that_?"

"It's not like you came up with anything better!" Alphonse protested, then immediately shut up as Hagrid turned back towards the two of them.

"Alrighty then, best be off now. Lots to buy."

Hagrid led the group out of the pub and into a small, walled courtyard, empty of anything but a trashcan and a few weeds. While he was counting the bricks above the trashcan, Hagrid asked Pinako:

"You said that ye've been to the Leaky Cauldron before. How a Diagon Alley?"

"No, none of us have been there," Pinako replied, observing as Hagrid tapped the wall three times with the tip of the umbrella in his hands. The brick he had touched quivered and wriggled, and in the middle a small hole appeared. It grew wider and wider, and Edward's eyes grew with it, his expression one of disbelief. _What...what's going on? Where's the transmutation circle??_

A second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight. Pinako nodded in approval:

"Impressive," she remarked. Hagrid grinned at her and the boys:

"You all haven't seen _anything_ yet. Welcome to Diagon Alley, Edward, Alphonse."

He grinned satisfyingly at the boy's amazement; they eagerly stepped through the archway, they're unblinking eyes taking in everything around them. No one in the group noticed when the archway shrank instantly back into the wall.

Edward craned his neck to see over the people passing by; several large signs hanging over each of the shops bore names like Slug & Jigger's Apothecary, Poltage's Cauldron Shop, Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions and Twilfitt and Tatting's. Some shops had outdoor windows showing off broomsticks, others had an assortment of cauldrons, all sizes, made of many different types of metal. The short blonde's eyes bugged out as he watched a small, black cauldron stirring itself.

"Yeah, you'll be needing one o' them," Hagrid said, nodding towards the cauldron shop. "But we gotta go get yer money first."

"Right," Ed said, snapping out of his oblivion. "Where's the bank?"

"Straight down," Hagrid said, pointing towards a large white building at the end of the alley. "Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Run by goblins."

" _Goblins_??" Ed and Al said in disbelieving unison, gaping up at the giant. Hagrid nodded matter-of-factly:

"Yeah, that's right. Ye'd be mad to rob it."

The Elric brothers looked at each other, then commenced in continuing on with their gaping at every shop they saw. Edward got a kick out of the people he saw as he walked down the alleyway; a plump woman outside the Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad..."

There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes, and shops selling several strange items that neither Ed nor Al had ever seen before. Ed heard his little brother say "wow..." at the sight of the owl emporium; a soft hooting could be heard from inside, and several different colors of beady owl eyes could be seen glowing at them as they passed.

Finally they made it to the bank; the snowy white building towered over all of the other little shops in the alley. As they walked up to the large, burnished bronze doors, Ed saw a short creature with a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and very long fingers and feet standing beside the doorway. He bowed as they walked inside.

"Was that one of the goblins?" Alphonse asked Hagrid.

"Yeah, that's one of them. You'll see many more once we're inside."

Sure enough, just as Hagrid said, the boys could see about at least a hundred more goblins seated upon high stools as they entered a long, grand hallway. The two Elrics made a point to keep their heads down as they followed Hagrid straight back to where a goblin wearing small, round spectacles was seated behind an immense desk that towered over even Hagrid. The gamekeeper cleared his throat, causing the goblin to look down questionably:

"...How can I help you, sir?"

"We've come ter take some money out of Mr. Edward Elric's safe."

The goblin peered over the desk at Ed, Al and Pinako.

"Is he the one in the armor?"

"No, the other one," Hagrid clarified.

"The short one?"

"HEY!" Ed screeched before Alphonse or Pinako could stop him:

"Who do you think you're calling a shorty that has to be looked through a magnifying glass to actually be seen?!!"

"Brother, he didn't say any of that!" Alphonse exclaimed, trying to shut his enraged brother up.

"Yeah?? Well, still, the NERVE of him--he pissed me off!!"

Pinako smacked herself in the face; Alphonse apologetically looked up at the goblin and made a move to speak, but quickly decided against it once seeing the goblin’s extremely displeased expression. Al quickly clamped a hand over his brother's mouth, preventing him from ranting anymore.

"...hurm," the goblin tutted disapprovingly.

"Sorry, sir," Hagrid said. "Won't happen again."

"Be sure to see to that. And does Mister Elric have his key?"

Ed wedged himself out of Al's grasp, then extracted the small golden key from within his coat. The goblin nodded, turning to hail another goblin. He then turned back to his papers and looked up Edward's name in the files.

"I do not see the surname 'Elric' in my files anywhere, Mister Elric."

"Try Hohenheim," Ed suggested. The goblin blinked in surprise:

" _You're_ the son of Van Hohenheim?"

"Yeah," Ed said impatiently. "He has a vault, right?"

"Yes, he does," the goblin said, frowning at Ed's impudence. "I will see to it that you are taken to it."

Ed nodded impolitely while Hagrid, Alphonse and Pinako thanked the goblin for his assistance. As they followed the second goblin through a doorway, Hagrid looked down at Edward disapprovingly:

"Why'd ye go off on him back there?"

Ed glowered; Alphonse was the one to explain that Edward doesn't react well to the short word. Hagrid couldn't hold back the laugh he felt bubbling inside of him, earning him a piece of Edward's furious expression. The second goblin opened a second door for them to walk through, leading them into a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It slopped steeply downward and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks on the floor. The goblin whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. Edward frowned:

"Excuse me, but this isn't gonna be big enough for all of us."

The goblin counted the four of them, the pressed a button located next to the controls, causing the cart to grow out to twice its original size, providing plenty of room for the entire party. They all climbed in--Hagrid and Alphonse with some difficulty--and were off.

They just hurtled through a maze of passages, the cold air stinging Edward's eyes as the cart plunged deeper and deeper into the cave, the torches flitting past with innumerable speed. Edward held on tight, looking back over his shoulder to make sure his brother was surely in the cart. Upon looking back he could see Hagrid's face becoming a bit green-looking, and when the cart finally stopped, he hastily got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.

After handing the goblin the golden key, Edward stood back with Alphonse and Pinako and watched as the door opened slowly, emerald-colored smoke billowing into their faces. As it cleared, Edward and Alphonse gasped in shock.

"No way--Hohenheim's _rich_?!" Edward roared in utter disbelief, running into the vault to see for himself, Alphonse right beside him. Sure enough, the enormous, two-storied vault was filled to the brim with valuables. The entire first floor was nothing but money; mountains of gold coins, columns of silver, and huge heaps of bronze. Edward didn't recognize the currency, but thankfully Hagrid explained:

"The golden ones are called Galleons, the silver Sickles, and the bronze ones Knuts. There are seventeen Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle. Easy enough to remember, right?"

"...sure," Ed said, curiously following his younger brother up the stairs to explore the second story as Pinako loaded up a bag with some money. There was no more money on the top floor; instead, there were numerous treasures and collectibles loaded up in an organized manner.

"Look at all of this stuff dad has," Alphonse said, examining a golden bust a bit more closely.

"Yeah," Ed said, fingering a shining silver locket. "Makes you wonder where it all came from."

"He must travel a lot," Al remarked, looking curiously upon a map with golden markings nailed upon one of the stone walls. "These must be all of the different places dad has been." He pointed at the gold-colored dots littering the map. Ed walked up behind him, locket still at hand, frowning slightly as he too observed the map.

"I don't see Amestris anywhere on here..."

"There's another map on the opposite wall, Ed. That one may have Amestris on it."

Sure enough upon turning around Edward spotted the map; larger than the one on the wall behind him, this one centered mainly upon Amestris and its bordering countries. He approached the golden map in wonder, placing a hand upon the dot labeled "Resembool." Suddenly more golden shot out from beneath Ed's fingers, expanding further across the wall, revealing a broader map that covered more countries and a larger area of land overall. The physical landscapes across the map popped out--literally--the peak of Briggs Mountain nearly touching Ed with its enormity.

"Amazing!" Ed breathed, removing his hand from "Resembool," which had now taken on a rather grass-like texture, the enchanted paper flowing in an invisible breeze, just like the vast prairie in Edward's hometown does.

Pinako walked over to where Ed stood and handed him his heavy sack of money, looking curiously upon the map once he took it. She also touched a hand upon "Resembool" just as Ed had done only a moment before, nodding in approval at the accurate display.

"Magic can certainly do impressive things; makes me almost wish I were a witch as well," the old lady spoke. Ed looked at her questionably:

"If you're not related to withes or wizards and you're not one of them yourself, Granny, then how did you know so much about this world?"

Granny smiled:

"I'm older than I seem, Ed. Hohenheim's not the only wizard I've drank with in the past."

Ed raised his eyebrows up at Pinako, decidedly choosing not to comment upon her statement. Pinako looked back at the elder Elric and said something completely random and surprising: "that locket you are holding belonged to Trisha."

Edward blinked in shock, not even realizing until that moment that he was still holding the necklace. Alphonse's ears perked up at the sounds of his mother's name as well, and he walked over to his brother's side to listen to what Pinako was saying:

"Hohenheim himself gave it to her, back before they were married. I remember it well because he had showed it to me, asking my opinion, making sure that it was good enough for Trisha. Of course I consented that it was; just look at the gorgeous craftsmanship. And that's pure, goblin-manufactured silver in its shell."

Edward lifted the locket up to look it over; its metal shell certainly looked magical, its glorious shine easily beating his automail's steely sheen. The oval-shaped locket's surface bore an elegant engraved design, damask in nature, the outer rim outlined with a lace-like border that bore miniscule, nearly-invisible amber diamonds sparkling in the firelight. Upon opening it, he saw a small, beautiful black-and-white photograph of Trisha and Hohenheim kissing--not a nasty, nauseating to look at kiss, though. No, it was a stunning, romantic kiss that looked like a scene from a fairy tale. Edward looked heart-breakingly upon the happy, peaceful face of his mother, biting back the tears that he felt beginning to burn the backs of his eyelids. He sighed, a shaky hand passing the locket over to Alphonse, who took it carefully into his hands. Al remained silent as he gazed upon the kind face of his mommy, his inhuman body unable to produce the tears he wanted to cry. He closed the lid, looking at the inscription upon the back of the locket; the words _My Immortal Beloved_ were engraved into the silver in looping cursive, the letters a light, gentle gold in color.

A gruff huffing was heard from the stairs as Hagrid emerged atop the second floor, looking around impressed before turning towards Edward:

"Yeh ready?"

"Yeah, let's get going," Ed said, looking up at Hagrid, the sheer weight of all his money suddenly making him eager to hurry up and spend it. Alphonse set the locket down upon a small, antique mahogany table next to the map of Amestris and company before following Hagrid and Pinako down the stars. Edward also made a move to follow, then paused; in a last-minute decision, he turned and grabbed his mother's locket off of the table, dropping it into his coat pocket as he exited down the stairs with his brother.

"Alright then, boys, Pinako. Try not to talk much to me on the way back up; best I don't open me mouth while riding these infernal carts..."

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

One wild cart ride later and the group was outside of Gringotts, the sunlight burning extra-bright after all the time they had all spent underground in Hohenheim's vault. Ed and Al couldn't decide which shop to run to first now that they had a bag full of money to burn.

"Might as well get yer uniform while we're here--" Hagrid began, then yelled at the boys in surprise as they bolted away from him and Pinako. The adults looked at each other in confusion, then frantically took off after the Elrics, yelling at them to slow down or else they'll get lost. When the two of them caught up with Ed and Al, they looked up at the sign above the shop, which was a bit larger than some of the others: _Flourish and Blotts Booksource._

"A _bookstore_!!" the boys shrieked in excitement as they excitedly entered the store. Hagrid looked at Pinako in confusion as they followed the Elrics in; Pinako laughed at the gamekeeper's expression:

"Edward and Alphonse have always loved reading, more than a boy should love it."

"Most boys their age would've run straight into the Quidditch pro shop, not a _bookstore_."

"Well, Hagrid," Pinako said solemnly as she watched the Elrics dive into the first books they could get ahold of. "You will find that the Elric brothers aren't like most other boys."

Edward placed the book on magical creatures that he had pulled out back onto its shelf, extracting his book list from his pocket, walking throughout the store to grab them first before he explored. Alphonse helped him, and before they knew it the required shopping was completed. While Al went off to another section of interest on his own, Ed's eyes spotted a sign labeled 'Alchemy' hovering over a large group of shelves. Immediately he ran over to the section and was lost there in a world of alchemic wonder.

The boys stayed in the library as long as they could, but after an hour of browsing, Hagrid finally urged them to hurry up and check out. "There's still lots to buy, y'know."

Ed and Al sighed in unison:

"We'll have to see if we can come back sometime, brother. We'll be coming back next year for my school stuff, anyhow."

"Yeah, that's right..." Ed raised an eyebrow at a dark brown, leather-bound book that bore a Flamel cross similar to the one he wore upon his coat on its spine. He pulled it out, weighing its thickness, flipping through the index quickly. _Alchemy: a history and instructional philosophy_ the cover read, bearing yet another Flamel cross in its lower right-hand corner, this one red in color. After being urged once more by Hagrid and Pinako to hurry it up, Ed decided to purchase the alchemy book along with his required school books (plus one or two novels that Alphonse took a liking to).

"That place is awesome!" Al said happily. "I can't wait to go back. Maybe next time we'll have more time to look around. Where to next, brother?"

They went into Madam Malkin's first to get Ed's robes, Ed leaving the shop feeling a bit depressed afterwards due to the fact that Malkin had to switch to a taller stool to set him upon due to his short stature. Still, though, he was beginning to get a bit excited about the school after seeing how cool the uniform looked.

"She mentioned something about Houses while she was measuring me," Ed spoke, placing his robes back into their bag. "What did she mean by that?"

"Ah, the Houses; yeh see, at Hogwarts they have school houses to separate the students up into. There's four: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin."

Ed chortled:

"Nice names. How do they decide which House to put you in?"

"Well, you see, each of the Houses are known to possess students with specific traits. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but better Hufflepuff than Slytherin. There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. Ravenclaw is full of book-worms and scholars, and then Gryffindor has all of the brave, strong people innit."

"I see," Edward said, immediately which House he would be sorted into. After a small amount of internal debate, however, he decided that he really wasn't going to be picky about it; wherever they put him he'll go. House names meant nothing to him; the only thing he wanted to focus on was becoming good enough to fix everything.

Hagrid wouldn't let Ed buy a solid gold cauldron at the cauldron shop, but Al managed to pick out a really nice set of scales, whilst Pinako examined the telescopes for the best pick. After those items were purchased they visited the Apothecary, which smelled just a weird as its products looked. Alphonse suddenly found his nose-less armor to be a plus as he laughed at Ed's scrunched-up expression as he plugged his nostrils. This only made laugh even harder, though, for once they left the shop and Ed relinquished his nose, the places where his automail thumb and middle finger had clamped on had turned bright red in color.

Edward's fuming expression softened a bit as they explored the various types and colors of quills across the walls of the next shop. _Why don't they just use fountain pens?_ Ed wondered, though he did not complain after finding a large, black-feathered pen that he took a liking to.

"Ok," Hagrid said, he, Alphonse and Pinako looking over Edward's shoulder at the supplies list. "Looks like we've gotten just about everything. All that's left is yer wand."

"First I think I should go to the owl shop to get a cage and stuff for Nova," Ed said, glancing over towards Eeylops. Alphonse nodded in agreement, obviously wanting to go see to see all the owls.

They entered the dark shop filled with the rustling of feathers and the flickering, jewel-bright eyes. There were numerous owls of varying species at the front of the shop--snowy, hoot, screech, tawny, brown, you name it--in an assortment of different cages. Along the back wall past the check-out desk was a large assortment of various owl food and treats; Ed walked past everything else and headed straight for that wall as Alphonse and Pinako looked at all the different cages.

"Be sure ye get 'er some of Eeylop's Premium Owl Treats," Hagrid said to Ed over his shoulder as he examined the wall of food. "The owls at Hogwarts love them."

"Got it," Ed muttered, reaching up to grab them but finding that he was too short to reach. He frustratingly continued to try for the bag of treats, refusing to ask for assistance...though he was getting nowhere with his efforts.

"Here, let me help," a red-headed boy about an inch or so taller than Ed said, reaching up above the fuming blonde's head and grabbing two bags of the treats, handing one of the bags to Ed, who momentarily pooled over whether or not to go off on the taller kid. Deciding against it, he huffed, offering the stranger a small, friendly smile to mask his own height-loathing.

"Thanks for that."

"No problem. Just a suggestion, though, while Eeylop's treats aren't half bad, our owl back at home goes nuts over the freeze-dried mice," he said, nodding towards a package located to the lower right of the Eeylop's treats. Ed picked up a bag and shook it, wrinkling his nose at the weight of the dead mice within.

"They seriously eat these??"

"Yeah, I know, right? Can't stand the sight of them, but Errol would happily inhale the entire bag at once if we let him," the ginger said, chortling slightly at the thought of his family's owl doing such a thing. He extended an owl out to Ed:

"Ron Weasley. I'm going to be a first year at Hogwarts this year."

Ed blinked at the familiar name of the school, then grasped Ron's right hand carefully with his automail:

"I'm Edward Elric. Same here on the Hogwarts thing. It'll be my first year, too."

Ron suddenly looked relieved:

"So glad we met; it'll be nice to know _somebody_ , you know?"

Ed grinned:

"I know what you mean."

"And maybe we can sit together on the train...?" Ron asked hopefully. Ed nodded in agreement, glad that Ron had reminded him to get his ticket from Hagrid before they parted later on. Ron grinned widely at him, his freckles stretching across his face:

"So, you getting an owl for a pet?"

"I already got one; she's at home. I'm just here to get some food and supplies for her."

"What kind of owl is she?" Ron inquired. Ed thought for a moment, honestly not sure. He glanced around the shop, then pointed at an owl sitting atop the checkout desk that looked like a larger version of Nova.

"She's whatever kind that one is."

"Ah, a barn owl," Ron said. "Those are really nice. Errol's a grey owl--and a big one at that."

"Yeah, Nova's really small compared to a lot of these owls here," Ed said, laughing slightly. "But she'll peck your head off if you say so in front of her!"

"That's her name, Nova?"

"Yeah, I named her."

"Nice," Ron said in approval, boosting Ed's ego.

"So, is Errol your owl?"

"No, he's the family owl," Ron said, his ears pinking slightly. "He's getting old. He's really useless. We're here to get my older brother Percy a new owl since he became a Gryffindor Prefect."

"Ah. I see," Edward said, even though he honestly had no clue what exactly a Prefect was.

"Hey Ed, how about this cage?" Alphonse called from across the shop, holding up a petite, silver cage in his hands. Ron and Ed both looked over at him, Ron's jaw dropping at the sight of the armor. "Whoa..."

Ed tapped upon his chin:

"...Can we possibly get one like that in black?"

Al looked back at where he got the cage, then turned back to face his brother and shrugged:

"Granny's gone to ask someone."

"Ok, cool," Ed said, turning back towards Ron, who was still gaping at Alphonse.

"Who is _that_?" Ron asked.

"Who?" Ed asked confusedly. Ron gaped at him:

"The guy in the armor, _duh_."

"Oh," Ed said, mentally smacking himself in the face. Since he had finally become desensitized to Al's armor, he sometimes forgot about how most people would react to Al's hugeness. "He's my little brother."

Ron blinked in surprise: " _little_?"

Another mental face-smack; _nice choice of words, smartass!!_ "Yeah, I'm a year older than him. He'll be going to Hogwarts next year."

"How'd he get so _tall_? I mean..." Ron began in wonder, but then stopped as Ed's eyes narrowed threateningly, daring Ron to continue. Ron blinked, grinning apologetically, his ears pinking even more.

"Ron! Come on, dear, we've got to get going!" a plump, red-headed woman called from the check-out desk. Ron glanced back at her, and then turned back towards Edward:

"That's my mum; I guess I'll be seeing you on the first, then."

"Yeah, definitely!" Ed said. "See you then--Ron, right?"

"Yep! And you're name was Edward, right?"

"Yeah, but you can just called me 'Ed' if you'd like," Ed said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Ron nodded in agreement to his proposal; his mom called for him once more, so he hurried over to her, waving:

"See ya, Ed!"

"See ya!" Ed called to his new friend, watching as he left the shop with his mother and brother, feeling a slight pang of jealousy towards the fact that he still had a mother to shop with. Said jealousy evaporated immediately, however, when his brother walked over to him, a black cage at hand. Ed smiled up at Al, thanking him as he took the cage and bags of treats up to the front desk to be purchased.

"Alrighty then," Hagrid spoke upon exiting the shop. "Last but certainly not least, we need to get yer wand. And you want Ollivander's for that; only place fer wands, Ollivander's..."

The giant pointed them towards the famous shop; Edward sighed and looked at Alphonse, the skepticism he had felt before coming back. Al saw evidence of its return sweeping upon his face.

"I still don't understand how a fancy little stick can help us," he muttered out of earshot of Hagrid and Pinako. Alphonse shrugged:

"If the school requires you to have one, then they obviously work, brother."

"Yeah?" they stopped in front of the narrow, shabby shop. Alphonse sighed:

"Try to have an open mind while you look at the wands, Ed."

Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivander’s: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. The elder brother sighed:

"Alright then; let's get this over with."

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Edward led the way into the wand shop, his brother following close behind him, Alphonse's curiosity obvious. The front of the shop look normal enough, the window display a simple one, containing only a single wand upon a faded dark purple pillow, and a large front desk proudly greeted them as they walked in, cloaking shelves beyond shelves of small, thin boxes of various colors and lengths. The elderly man sitting behind the desk hastily got off his chair and came around to the front to greet everyone.

"Rubeus Hagrid! Good to see you again!" Ollivander greeted the half-giant with open arms. "I see you've brought more prospective students with you today."

"Hello to you too, sir," Hagrid greeted the wandmaker as he carefully sat down upon the same spindly chair he had just recently sat upon when he brought Harry to Ollivander's. He gestured to Edward: "this here is Edward Elric. He'll be a first year at Hogwarts this year."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," Edward said politely as he shook Ollivander's hand.

"The pleasure's mine, Mr. Elric. And you too, Madam...?"

"Pinako Rockbell. I'm a family friend of the boy's," Pinako said as she stepped forward to shake Ollivander's hand.

"Family friend, eh? Hmm..." the old wandmaker hummed thoughtfully. "Now, I can't seem to place your sir name, Mr. Elric, though you do look like someone I've sold to in the past."

"Oh, my father--" Edward began, but was silenced by Ollivander's palm.

"No wait, I've a good memory, I'll figure you out...Ah ha! It's in your eyes. You are the son of the one called Hohenheim, correct?"

"Yes," Edward nodded, impressed at the elderly man's keen memory.

"Van Hohenheim! Cypress, fourteen inches--a good, broad wand, that one, and with an especially powerful core." Ollivander seemed to be speaking to no one in particular now as his pale, shining eyes recalled the past. "Yes, I remember every single wand I've fashioned and sold, Mr. Elric. For instance, Hagrid here favored a wand of oak. Sixteen inches, and rather bendy as well, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," Hagrid nodded. "Good wand, that one."

"Yes, it certainly was," Ollivander agreed, eyeing the gamekeeper's umbrella sternly.

"Was?" Alphonse questioned. "What happened to it?"

"I was expelled during my time at Hogwarts, unfortunately," Hagrid said solemnly. "They snap yer wand in half upon expulsion, you see."

"Why were you expelled?" Edward asked nosily.

"That's a long story fer another time, alright?"

Ed blinked, nodding reluctantly as he turned back towards the wandmaker. Ollivander was not looking at Edward anymore, though, and was instead fixated upon his younger brother.

"My dear boy, why do you wear that armor?"

Al froze.

"Uh, uhm, well, you see sir, it's a--a hobby of mine. Yeah! A hobby, to wear armor..."

"I see," Ollivander said, raising an eyebrow at his nervousness as he turned back to Ed. "Is he your brother?"

"Yeah, that's my younger brother, Alphonse. He'll be going to Hogwarts next year."

"Ah, good! I shall look forward to fitting you for a wand next year, then, Mr. Elric."

"I'm looking forward to it, too, sir," Alphonse said, relieved to be out of the wandmaker's analytical gaze. He and Ed exchanged a quick glance as Ollivander pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings from behind the front desk.

"Now, Edward, which arm is your wand arm?"

"Uhm, my left...?"

"Hold it out for me."

Edward obliged and Ollivander stood back and watched as the tape measure measured him from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head, all on it's own. As Edward gaped dumbfounded at it, the wandmaker said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful substance, Mr. Elric. We use things such as unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are the same. And of course, you will never get as good results with another wizard's wand than with your own, for it's truly the wand that chooses the wizard rather than the other way around."

Ollivander then abruptly caught the tape measure and tossed it back behind the front desk, and then began flitting around the numerous shelves, taking down boxes.

"...Ok then, here's a good place to start. Mahogany and phoenix feather. Ten inches, light and wispy. Just take it in your left hand and wave it around a bit, Edward."

"Alright," Edward said as he grasped the dark red handle of the wand. After stealing a quick glance back at his brother, he flicked his wrist and dropped the wand as a lamp on the wall shattered into a million bits.

"I'm sorry, I didn't--"

"Not to worry, not to worry," Ollivander said as he picked up the discarded wand. "That is easily fixable, my boy. Here's the next one; ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches. Springy. Go on, have at it, and do not worry yourself about breaking things."

"Ok, if you're sure," Edward said as he gingerly grasped the second wand, being careful not to aim at anything breakable as he gently flicked it. Unfortunately for him, though, he ended  up aiming at some shelves and caused dozens of boxes of wands to come flying off of them. _Ah hell!!_

"Nope, definitely not," Ollivander said as he snatched the dark colored wand out of Ed's hand.

"Next up: chestnut and dragon heartstring, ten inches, stiff."

As Ed continued on his pursuit to find the perfect wand, Ollivander's shop became more and more messy, the pile of discarded wands piling higher and higher atop the front desk. To everyone's surprise (except Hagrid, who knew of the wandmaker’s quirks), however, the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled out for Ed to try, the more giddy he seemed to become.

"You're a bit of a tricky customer, aren't you? Like Harry Potter, this one is, Hagrid--or perhaps even more so, possibly. Not to worry, Mr. Elric, there is a wand in this shop for you somewhere..."

Ollivander ducked as Ed waved a twelve-inch wand of beechwood and unicorn hair about, disrupting the wind and tossing about several boxes from the discard pile onto the floor. Ed ran a hand through his bangs as he hastily relinquished the failed wand to Ollivander, feeling about ready to just give it up and leave the shop. Just then, though, Ollivander's pallid eyes illuminated.

"...I wonder, now--yes, why not. It could work."

"What could work?" Ed asked, a slight bit of desperation tucked into his impatient tone. The wandmaker held up a finger to him:

"One moment, if you will please. I shall return."

And with that he retreated to the far back shadows of the wand shop, leaving the rest of the party wondering what he could be fetching. Edward turned toward Al, a slightly confused look on his face.

"What's wrong, brother?" Al asked.

"Those wands...I wasn't using alchemy when I was holding any of them. How did I make all of that stuff happen without using alchemy?"

"Magic, duh," Hagrid said, crossing his arms. "Yeh cannot honestly say you're still skeptical after all o' that, now can you?"

"Well--" Ed began his counterargument just as Ollivander re-entered the room, a single slender, long box being carried carefully in his hands.

"...I made this wand quite some time ago, back when I was experimenting with different materials. This wand is simply one of quite a few like it that have by this time been sold already, but this one still remained after its brethren left the shop. It is made of wood from an elm tree, and within its core lies a thestral heartstring."

Edward looked at the box with the utmost curiosity as he asked:

"What exactly is a thestral?"

"A dark, magical creature with the skeletal body of a winged horse. It cannot be seen by all who look upon it; only those who have seen death can see a thestral. Dark, powerful creatures, thestrals are; that's one of the main reasons why I no longer use thestral-based cores in my wands.

"An' horridly misunderstood..." Hagrid muttered bitterly under his breath. Ollivander continued on, seemingly unhearing of Hagrid's commentary:

"They've become _too_ devious and _too_ powerful for people to accept them like before. That and the fact that breeding thestrals is now illegalized are the reasons that this is the last Ollivander's wand with a thestral-based core."

Ollivander then opened the box, revealing the long black wand within. Its handle was a simple one, elongated and curved slightly in its midsection and carved into with many differentiating marks and symbols. The hypnotic grooves of the elm wood shone slightly throughout the entire length of the wand, and it all shimmered slightly in the light with a golden-like sheen.

"It's a beautifully made wand, and the strength of the core is what causes it to shine like it is."

And with one last sigh of admiration, Ollivander lifted the shimmering wand out of its box and held it out for Edward to take. Ed's eyes widened at the old man:

"W-what, me? You want me to try out _this_ wand?"

"But of course, that's why I got it out," Ollivander said, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

"But I would think that you'd want to sell a wand like this to some world-renowned wizard, or somebody with more experience at the least!"

"My dear naïve boy! It is like I had said before: the wand chooses the wizard, and so far every other wand I've set out for you has not been the best fit. It matters not to me whether this wand it more special than the others. What matters to me is that you walk out of my store with the perfect wand for you."

Ed blinked, and then looked back at the dark wand hesitantly. Ollivander smiled down at him as he spoke firmly:

"Mr. Elric; I insist."

Edward nodded once as he lifted his hand up and wrapped his fingers around the mysterious wand's handle, gripping it gingerly as if the power within would break through the wood if gripped too tight. The effect was immediate; the wand's golden sheen glowed twice as bright as before, the symbols upon the handle revealing a circular formation underneath his palm that looked curiously similar to a transmutation circle in Edward's eyes. With the warmth of the wand at hand, Ed flicked his wrist and sent the golden sparkles up into the air above him. They swarmed above his head for a moment, hyperactively taking the shape of a snake-like creature, and then with a great gust of wind they dove back down towards the wand, shrinking in size and wrapping themselves around Edward's hand. Everyone watched as they disappeared within his skin, then re-materialized across the wand's handle in the form of an embossed snake.

Edward looked up at Ollivander in shock as Hagrid, Pinako and Alphonse applauded the scene:

"...Did _I_ do that?"

"Yes, Edward. You are, after all, a wizard. And I most certainly believe that this is your perfect wand," he said, his silver eyes shining brightly. "It's been a few years since I've seen quite a display; it was as if it was made for you."

He took it from Edward gingerly, and the sheen upon the wood dimmed significantly. Ollivander closely observed the addition to the design, the snake-like emboss that wrapped around the length of the handle of the wand.

"...how very... _curious_."

"What's curious?"

Ollivander looked back at the boy:

"Oh, nothing much, nothing much. I was simply wondering why, of all animals, the wand decided to take on the form of a snake. It's all very curious--oh well! Will wonders never cease! And it _does_ add a bit of something to the design anyhow..."

Ed turned back towards Al and Hagrid, eyebrow raised in confusion. They both shrugged, equally confused. Ed frowned slightly but nonetheless followed the wandmaker to the front desk where he paid ten gold Galleons for his new wand. Mr. Ollivander smiled brightly at everyone as he bowed them grandly from his shop.

"And I will be looking forward to seeing you next year, Alphonse Elric!"

"Of course, see you next year, sir!" Alphonse cheerfully called after the wandmaker as he and his brother made their way back down Diagon Alley.

"Alright, boys, looks like that's about it; how about I treat you two to some ice cream?" Hagrid said cheerfully. Ed immediately perked up at the sound of the tasty dessert, then remembered that poor Alphonse wouldn't be able to partake in such a delicious substance. Deciding upon being fair, Edward smiled sadly at Hagrid:

"That's really nice of you to offer, but unfortunately Al and I are lactose-intolerant."

Hagrid's face was a huge question-mark. Pinako laughed at his expression and explained:

"The boys can't be eating too much milk-based substances."

"Oh," Hagrid said, scratching his head. He shrugged:

"Alrighty then, suit yerselves. Oh, before we head back to the Leaky Cauldron, though, here..." after rummaging a bit through his deep coat pockets, Hagrid finally extracted a gold-rimmed ticket to the Hogwarts Express and a bag very similar to the bag of Floo Powder Ed still had in his coat pocket. "Yer ticket, and here's enough Floo Powder to get you all to King's Cross the morning of September first to see Edward off."

Edward took the items from the gamekeeper, then looked up into his hairy face:

"Well then, I guess I'll be seeing you."

"Indeed you shall!" Hagrid said, cheerfully shaking Ed's hand once more. "It was a pleasure to meet you all today, and I'll look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts, Edward!"

Ed nodded in agreement, then followed Granny Pinako and Alphonse back through the arch into the Leaky Cauldron.

"Well," Alphonse said as they made their way back to the fireplace in which the day's journey had begun. "That was fun, wasn't it?"

Ed nodded in agreement:

"The Wizarding world is an interesting place, that's for sure. But it'll be nice to return to normalcy--at least for a while until I leave for Hogwarts," Ed said, slipping his left hand into his pocket for the Floo Powder. His hand brushed against Trisha's locket, and Ed froze for a moment as he remembered the photograph inside, remembered the entire contents of Van Hohenheim's vault, the map especially...

"Ed?"

Ed looked back at Alphonse and quickly put a smile on his face to hide his sorrow:

"...Come on Al, Granny. Let's go home."

 

~~*e.s.*~~


	6. Spellbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edward Elric is, quite literally, spellbound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Chapter Five: Spellbound~

 

{the morning of September first}

Edward lounged impatiently upon the sofa as Winry did one last check on his automail. His trunk was already packed and set down next to the fireplace, and Nova was all packed up and tucked into her shiny new cage. All that was left to do was to leave for the station…which was proving difficult whilst wearing Winry Rockbell-fitted automail.

"Oil it every day!"

"Right."

"Check for loose screws!"

"Right"

"Make sure you wipe it off really good after bathing!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Are you even _listening_?"

"Huh?"

"UGH," Winry groaned in annoyance, bonking Ed over the head with her wrench before dismissing him from the sofa. Ed annoyedly left her presence, rubbing his head begrudgingly as he approached Granny.

"You ready to go?" she asked, smoking her pipe impatiently. Ed nodded once, pulling his ticket for the Hogwarts Express out of his pocket. Alphonse looked over his shoulder in curiosity as Ed read:

“The place is called King’s Cross Station, and the train leaves at eleven am from Platform…” he frowned.

“Platform what?” Granny asked as she grabbed Ed’s trunk and wheeled it over by the fireplace.

“Nine and Three-Quarters,” Alphonse piped up when Ed remained silent. Winry and Pinako raised their eyebrows in unison questionability.

“What kind of train station has a Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?” said Winry. Ed shook his head:

“Maybe the ticket got misprinted?”

“It doesn’t look like a misprint to me, brother,” said Al, who was equally as perplexed as the rest of the company. Ed shrugged:

“Ah well. We’ll see it when we get there, I suppose.”

And with that, he tucked the trunk into the fireplace and squeezed in next to it, a handful of Floo powder at hand.

“King’s Cross Station!”

Ed was immediately glad that he had braced himself and had a good handle upon his trunk when the familiar whooshing sensation overtook him once more, sending him spinning into a dusty, obviously unused fireplace located in King’s Cross’ abandoned boarding station. Ed hobbled out of the fireplace, trunk at hand, and stood back and waited for the rest of his family to join him, dusting his clothing off. Al was next; he looked generally unscathed as he emerged, obviously feeling less shaken-up than the last time he traveled by Floo. Poor Nova could not say the same; Ed couldn’t keep from laughing at his jostled, ash-coated owl, who was visibly shaking in her cage.

“Ed, don’t laugh at her!” Al shouted in protest, setting Nova’s cage upon Ed’s trunk. “She looks so scared, poor thing…”

“She’ll be fine, Al,” Ed said. He glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was noticing any movement coming from the boarding booth, and after being reassured that it truly was abandoned, he turned back to Nova and Al.

“I wonder…let me try something real quick, since I won’t be able to use alchemy for the entire school year…”

Al stood back, looking questionably upon his brother, wondering what he was up to. Just then, Ed clapped his hands together; to Al’s shock, he placed them upon Nova’s cage, and a large gust of wind blew through it, blowing all traces of ash and soot off of the barn owl. Ed removed his hands, looking pleased despite Nova’s loathsome expression.

“B-brother--!!”

Just then, another whoosh could be heard from behind Al, and Winry and Pinako emerged from the fireplace, Winry looking rather worse for wear.

“…That is by far the WORST way to travel, _ever_!” she said, frantically running her hands through her messy hair. Pinako chuckled at her granddaughter, assisting her in wiping the soot off her clothes. Al was still staring at Ed in shock.

“What?” Ed asked, Al’s shock being painfully obvious.

“You did alchemy without a transmutation circle! Like teacher does!”

Ed froze, realization slamming into him as he grasped Al’s words.

“…You’re right. I did!”

He paused: “ _How_ did I do that??”

“I don’t know! But it looked like you weren’t even thinking about it; you made the transmutation look so easy.”

“Can you do that too, Al?”

“Me? No way!” Al said, laughing. Winry, Nova and Pinako just kind of stood in silence, the three of them thinking, _what in the world is going on here…?_

“Wow…” Ed said, smiling only slightly before replacing it with a frown of concern. “How can I do something like that without even realizing I can do it? Especially transmuting…”

He looked back at Al and sighed:

“Not that it really matters; I can’t do any alchemy while at school, anyway.”

“Speaking of,” Winry pointed out: “it’s ten-thirty now. We’d better get going if you want to get on that train, Ed.”

“Right,” he said, leading the way out of the boarding station and grabbing a cart for his trunk and Nova’s cage. King’s Cross was visibly busy, with numerous crowds of bustling people trying to board trains and purchase tickets. There were big plastic numbers over each of the platforms, but as Ed and company continued down the line, they eventually got to the area between Platforms Nine and Ten and found nothing resembling an additional platform. Ed yanked the ticket out of his pocket to double check he had read right; sure enough, the ticket bore the same Platform Nine and Three-Quarters it bore beforehand.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Ed said, bemusedly looking back and forth at the signs for Platforms Nine and Ten as if waiting for a third platform to magically appear in between. Pinako took the ticket from him and examined it herself, frowning slightly.

“There’s probably some secret way of getting to this platform that Hagrid forgot to tell us about.”

 _Damn_ , Ed thought frustratingly, looking now upon the brick columns in between the platforms, wondering which one he was supposed to tap upon with his wand…

Near one of the columns, however, Ed surprisingly found himself looking upon a familiar, red-headed face. _He’s that boy I met in the owl shop! Crap, what was his name? Richard? Ralph…?_   

“…Ron!”

The red-head looked in Ed’s direction with curiosity; a huge grin broke across his face immediately after spotting the blonde kid.

“Hey, Ed!” Ron greeted Ed as he ran over to him, his family following close behind. His mother, who Ed recognized as the plump woman from the owl shop walked up to him, smiling kindly down at him.

“Hello, dear, I’m Molly Weasley, Ron’s mum.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Ed, shaking her hand and then glancing up as Alphonse came to stand next to him. “This is my younger brother, Alphonse. Al, this is Ron and his mom.”

“And his brothers!” two voices from behind Ron piped up, running up to the two Elrics, looking at Al in awe.

“Nice armor,” one of them said, the other one nodding and grinning in agreement.

“Thanks,” Al said sheepishly.

“Why do you wear it?” a third, taller Weasley boy inquired, walking up to the group with a younger girl hiding shyly behind him.

“It’s a hobby,” the Elric brothers quickly said in unison, quickly shooting each other a look. Al made a noise that sounded as if he were clearing his throat:

“Yeah, I’m really, uh…into armor and stuff.”

“I see,” the taller Weasley said.

“Cool,” the twins chimed in awe. Molly Weasley spoke again:

“You’re Ed’s younger brother? What year will you be going to Hogwarts then, dearie?”

“Next year,” Al said, nodding excitedly. The woman chuckled:

“Ginny’s going next year, too,” she said as she gestured to her bashful little girl. Al looked over at Ginny, friendly waving at her. After a short moment’s contemplation she waved back, emerging just a little bit from her brother’s cover. While Molly talked a bit to Pinako, Ron looked at Ed’s owl.

“How many siblings do you have?” Ed asked, forcibly tearing his gaze away from the twins, who were currently swarming around Winry and making her laugh.

“Five brothers and Ginny, so six.”

“Wow,” Al said. “That’s a big family.”

“Yeah. They get really annoying at times,” Ron admitted. “So is it just you two, or do you have a younger brother or sister at home?”

“Nah, just us,” Ed said, leaning against Al.

“Do your brothers go to Hogwarts, too?” Al asked.

“Yeah, and they’re all in Gryffindor,” Ron said, sighing. “Which is definitely the House I hope to be in, too. I’ll be the only one in the family not in Gryffindor if I don’t get in.”

“I’m sure you’ll get in if your whole family’s in it,” Al said kindly. Ron half-smiled in thanks at the younger Elric.

“What House do you think you’ll be in, Ed?”

“Uhm,” Ed said, scratching his head as he racked his brain for all the information Hagrid had given him about the Hogwarts Houses. “I’m not sure. But I’m not gonna be picky about it, though, if you know what I mean.”

“Really? You mean you’d even be ok with Slytherin?”

“I don’t really understand what the big deal with that House is…” Ed shrugged:

“If I end up in Slytherin I end up in Slytherin. Oh well. I wonder how they sort people into their Houses.”

“Yeah, same here; Fred and George won’t tell me anything.”

“Alright, boys, come along now!” called Ron’s mom. “We’ve got to hurry up and get to the Platform…goodness; this place is packed with Muggles, of course…”

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Harry was beginning to get rather desperate.

The guard he had just talked to had never even heard of Hogwarts, let alone Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. On top of all that, the guard did not even know of any trains leaving at eleven o’ clock! Harry sighed, looking at Hedwig; the owl stared back blankly, as if saying, _sorry; I’m all out of ideas, too._

“—packed with Muggles, of course—“

 _Muggles_? Harry’s ears perked up immediately. He swung round and spotted the speaker in a group of people. Most of them were pushing a cart, and two of the carts had _owls_. Hedwig perked up at the sight of the owls, and Harry’s heart began to hammer. He pushed his heart after them, stopping just near them to listen in to what they were saying.

“Now, what’s the platform number?” the red-headed woman asked.

“Nine and three quarters!” piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand. “I really wish I could go…”

“You’re not old enough yet, Ginny. You’ll go next year with Alphonse; all right, Percy, you go first.”

Harry watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it…but the boy just disappeared!

… _huh…?_

 _What…??_ Ed also was thinking, feeling equally as dumbfounded as Harry. But sure enough, when the two twins ran through, it was obvious what was happening; the barrier was allowing them to step through to an alternate platform. Ron grinned at Ed’s amazed expression; little did he know that the boy was staring at the brick column in order to find a hidden transmutation circle, though, not because he thinks it’s magic.

After all, it _had_ to be a transmutation. There’s nothing else for it.

“Excuse me,” Harry said, finally getting the guts to walk up to the plump woman and ask for directions.

“Hello dear,” Ron’s mom greeted Harry kindly. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron and Edward are new, too.”

She pointed at the youngest son and his companion, a short, long-haired blonde who had to tear his curious eyes away from the barrier in order to acknowledge Harry’s presence.

“Yes,” said Harry. “The thing is—the thing is, I don’t know how to—“

“How to get onto the platform?”

Harry nodded sheepishly.

“Not to worry,” she said with a smile. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important.”

She turned to address Ed at the same time as Harry.

“Best do it at a run if you two are nervous. Go on, Harry, go now before Ron and Edward.”

“Er—ok..”

What was left of the group observed as Harry took a deep breath and then took off toward the barrier and disappeared onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters. As Ron followed Harry, Ed turned to Alphonse:

“…Do you see a transmutation circle anywhere on that barrier?”

“No,” Al said, meeting his brother’s expression, knowing they were probably both thinking the same thing; not all alchemists need transmutation circles.

“Alright, dears, let’s get a move on,” Mrs. Weasley called to the Elric brothers. Ed and Al glanced behind them at Winry and Pinako, who followed them and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny into the barrier and onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

A scarlet steam engine greeted them with great grandiose and a mighty sheen. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o’clock. Edward looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the platform name on it. Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. One small tabby came right over to where Alphonse stood, rubbing against his large metal legs all cute-like. The younger Elric’s heart melted at the sight of the adorable creature, and he happily scooped the kitten up into his big, gentle hands…

“Put the cat down, Al,” Ed said, not even needing to turn around and look at Al to know what he was up to.

“But brother, it _came_ to me—“

“It doesn’t belong to you, Al; put it down!”

“Fine…bye-bye, Kitty..”

The kitten meowed its goodbye and toddled off in search of its true owner.

“Hey Ed, over here!” Ron called out to him. Ed quickly drove his cart up next to Ron’s and, with Alphonse’s help, loaded the two trunks up in through the train door. After carefully placing Nova atop his trunk and waving goodbye to her, he his brother and Ron walked back over to their families.

“Ron, come here; you’ve got something on your nose,” Mrs. Weasley said, taking out her handkerchief and rubbing the end of Ron’s nose.

“ _Mom_ —geroff!” he wriggled free.

“Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?” said one of the twins, causing Ed to crack up. Just then, someone yanked at his hair.

“YEOW!”

He turned and angrily glared at the culprit: Winry.

“You had something in your hair. Probably from breakfast; you’re so sloppy, Ed.”

Ron chortled at this, shooting Ed a _that’s what you get!_ look. Ed rolled his eyes, offering the pink-nosed boy a small smile as he blew his bangs out of his face. Just then the oldest boy came striding into sight; he had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Ed noticed a shiny silver badge on his chest with a letter _P_ on it.

“Can’t stay long, Mother,” he said. “I’m up front, the prefects have two compartments to themselves—“

“Oh, are you a _prefect_ , Percy?” said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. As they went on with their poking fun at the older brother’s haughtiness, Ed questioned Ron:

“What is a prefect, anyway?”

“There’s kind of like student leaders of the Houses. There are six per House, and they get to be real bossy to the other students in the House.”

“I see,” Ed said, understanding why Ron’s older brother seemed so snobbish to him. He watched as Ron’s mother fondly kissed Percy upon the cheek and then he left, his robes billowing grandly behind him. Then she turned to the twins.

“Now, you two—this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling you’ve—you’ve blown up a toilet or—“

“Blown up a toilet? We’ve never blown up a toilet.”

“Great idea though, thanks, Mom!”

“It’s _not funny_! And look after Ron.”

“Don’t worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us.”

“Shut up,” said Ron, causing Ed to laugh at him again. The redhead glared down at Ed:

“’Least I’m taller than you,” he pointed out. Ed fumed furiously, clenching his fists.

“Touché,” he growled in reply, causing Ron to bust up, the pink tint in his nose only getting worse with his laughter.

“Hey, Mom,” one of the twins suddenly piped up. “Guess who we just met on the train?”

Ron and Ed listened into this conversation.

“Who?”

“ _Harry Potter_!”

Ginny gasped:

“Ohh, Mom, can I go on the train and see him, Mom oh _please_ …”

“You’ve already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn’t something you goggle at in a zoo.”

She looked back towards the twins.

“Is he really, Fred? How do you know?”

“Asked him. Saw his scar. It’s really there—like lightning.”

“Poor _dear_ —no wonder he was alone, I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform.”

“Is this Harry Potter guy some kind of wizard celebrity or something?” Ed inquired. Ron gaped at him:

“You’ve never heard of Harry Potter??”

“No…should I have?”

“ _Yes!_ ” Ron exclaimed. “After all, he’s the one that defeated You-Know-Who!”

“Speaking of, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?” Fred asked. Their mother suddenly became very stern.

“I forbid you to ask him, Fred. NO. Don’t you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day of school.”

“All right, keep your hair on,” the boy muttered.

A whistle sounded.

“Hurry up!” Molly Weasley called, and Fred and George quickly ran over and clambered onto the train. Ed sighed and turned back to Pinako, Winry and Alphonse.

“Well, thanks for everything Granny. I owe you one, big time.”

“Of course you don’t,” the old woman said briskly. “It’s like I’ve always said, I consider you boys family and I treat you as if you were my own grandchildren. Now, you go have a good term, and write occasionally, if you can.”

“Right. I will,” Ed said. He then turned to Winry, placing a hand upon his covered-up automail.

“...Thank you,” he said, smiling slightly. Winry blinked, then quickly returned the smile.

“Just remember what I told you; you take care of yourself. And be sure you call if something happens, or if—“

She was cut off suddenly; Ed hugged her tight, holding her there for a short moment, then relinquished her.

“I’ll take care, I swear.”

Winry blinked again, and then nodded once. Ed sighed, finally turning to face his little brother. As he looked up into Alphonse’s metallic face, it finally hit him; for the first time since their mother died, the boys were being separated. He could feel a few tears burning at the back of his eyes but he refused to relinquish them, instead acting strong, because he knew that Alphonse was probably going to take the separation harder than Ed was going to. After all, he’s the younger brother, not Ed.

“I guess I’ll see you later, then, Al.”

“Yeah…see ya, Ed.”

Ed nodded, slowly beginning to walk away from the three of them, over to where Ron was patiently waiting for him.

“…Brother?”

Ed froze, turning to face Al again.

“Yeah?”

“I…I’ll miss you.”

Ed stared at Al, his chest becoming extremely tight, the tears punching furiously at his eyeballs. He stood there for a long moment, staring at his brother, and then he finally shook his head. Before he knew it he found himself running back at Al and wrapping his arms around his younger brother’s big metal encasement.

“…I’m standing by what I’ve said before, Al,” Ed hissed out of earshot of the other people around them. “I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes to get your body back. I will do anything and everything to right all the wrongs I’ve involved you in.”

He pulled away from Al, quickly wiping his eyes before anyone could see that he was unsuccessful in containing his tears.

“I’m gonna miss you, Al.”

“I’ll miss you to, brother,” said Alphonse, his voice audibly breaking, though Ed knew that the child was unable to cry, because of that stupid, inhumane armor he was stuck in. Ed placed a hand upon his brother’s hollow armor.

“I’ll write. A lot. I’ll tell you all about the school, and hopefully you’ll be back to normal by the time you go the Hogwarts next year.”

“That would be awesome!”

Ed smiled:

“Yeah. It sure would.”

He removed his hand from the armor, looking behind him as Ron called for him to hurry up or the train will leave them. Ed smiled one last time at his brother, Winry and Granny before running off to join Ron onboard the Hogwarts Express.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Houses flashed past the window; the city of London began to dissipate and soon a vast sea of trees could be seen through the train’s windows. Harry found himself feeling more excited than he ever had in his entire life. He had no clue what he was getting himself into, but it _had_ to be better than what he was leaving behind, right?

The door of the compartment slid open and Ron and his blonde friend from the train station stood in the doorway.

“Anyone sitting there?” the redhead asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry.

“Everywhere else is full,” the blonde piped up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his long red coat.

Harry shook his head and the two boys sat down; he noticed that Ron still had a bit of a black spot on his nose.

“Are you really Harry Potter?” Ron blurted out.

Harry nodded.

“Oh—well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George’s jokes,” said Ron. “And have you really got—you know…”

He whispered, “scar,” pointing to Harry’s forehead.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry said, pulling his bangs back to show the lightning scar. Ron and Ed stared.

“What a weird-shaped scar,” Ed remarked. “Where’d you get it from?”

Ron turned and gaped at him.

“You mean you’ve never heard of him??”

Ed raised an eyebrow: “no offense or anything—Harry, was it?—but should I have heard of him?”

“Uh, YEAH,” Ron said increadously. “He defeated You-Know-Who when he was only a year old!”

“You-Know-Who?” Ed said, his face a giant question mark. Ron’s agape expression grew in shock.

“Well,” Harry said, shifting in his seat. “It doesn’t really matter, ‘cause I can’t remember it.”

“Nothing?” said Ron eagerly.

“Well—I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.”

“Wow,” said Ron. Harry then turned to Ed:

“Don’t feel bad about not knowing about You-Know-Who. I just barely learned about him this summer, and apparently I’m the one who ‘defeated’ him.”

“Is that his real name?” Ed asked sarcastically. “You-Know-Who?”

“No, it’s Voldemort.”

A large gasp emitted from Ron; Harry and Ed raised their eyebrows in confusion.

“ _You said You-Know-Who’s name!_ ” said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. “I-I’d have thought, you, of all people—“

“I’m not trying to be _brave_ or anything, saying the name,” said Harry. “I just never knew you shouldn’t.”

He sighed heavily:

“See what I mean? I’ve got loads to learn…I bet,” he added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately.

“Don’t worry,” Ed said reassuringly. “I’m in the same boat. I didn’t even know that magic existed until this summer.”

“Same here!” Harry said, feeling relieved that someone else understood. “I bet I’m the worst in the class.”

“You won’t be, neither of you will,” stated Ron. “There’s loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough.”

Harry nodded, looking back at Ed.

“I don’t think I caught your name back at King’s Cross…”

“Edward Elric,” Ed said, extending a friendly (non-automail) hand out to the fellow wizard.

While they had been talking the Hogwarts Express had quickly taken them far away from London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, that is, until a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, “Anything off the trolley, dears?”

Harry and Ed immediately leapt to their feet, but Ron’s ears went pink. “No thanks, I’m all set,” he muttered, embarrassingly lifting up a plastic baggie with a roast beef sandwich in it.

Neither Harry nor Ed had had very much money for buying candy back at home, so this was a real treat for them. However, there wasn’t a single familiar type of candy to be found anywhere on that cart. After a moment’s contemplation, the two boys looked at each other in contemplation…

Ron’s jaw dropped at the sight of the two of them carrying armfuls of candy and sweets.

“Hungry?”

“Starving!” Ed said, hastily digging into a pumpkin pasty.

Ron pulled apart a bit of his sandwich and sighed.

“She always forgets that I don’t like corned beef…”

“Swap you for one of these,” said Harry, holding up a pasty. “Go on—“

“You don’t want this, it’s all dry,” said Ron sulkily.

“Just take the sweets and enjoy it, Ron!” Ed said with a mouthful of pasty. Harry urged a pasty into the ginger’s hands, eager to have someone to share with. Pretty soon they had all eaten their way through the mountain of sweets, each taking turns sampling scary-looking Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. The expression on Ed’s face when he encountered a sour milk-flavored one was priceless, and he had Ron and Harry literally rolling with laughter at the hilarity of his outraged display.

As the countryside continued flying past the window became wilder and wilder with every passing minute, Ed eventually passed out across the seat, forcing Ron to move to the other side and take a seat next to Harry. The older Elric was exhausted, though; after a sleepless night, the lull of the Hogwarts Express was like a lullaby to him. The slightly rickety-ness of the train didn’t bother him a bit, either, for he was so used to traveling by train after all the times he and Al travelled to Dublith to meet up with their teacher…

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

_“Brother? Are…are you there?”_

_I found myself laughing softly, humorlessly from the other side of the hellish transmutation circle. Yes, I wanted to say, I’m here. But you’re still not._

“… _sorry…” was all I managed to hoarsely whisper._

_The armor’s head jolted up, two small, white orbs visible in the eyeholes of the helmet replacing his dark, amber eyes that used to melt mom’s heart. His small, ten-year-old voice gasped from within the armor as he leapt up from the floor and ran over to where I lay slumped upon the floor, bleeding for him. He froze before kneeling next to me, however, and I saw him lift a hand to his ‘face,’ examining why he was suddenly so tall, so big, so…inhuman._

_“What--?”_

_“All I could get for one arm was your…s-soul…” I spoke in my broken, pained whisper, raising my remaining hand up to the stump that used to be my right arm._

_Alphonse fell to the floor by my side with a great clamoring, his metal body creaking as his former self never would’ve. I closed my eyes tighter as I felt his giant hand rest gingerly upon my heaving back._

_“B-brother…why?”_

Edward awoke with a start, his breathing heavy. He shook his head clear of the awful dream, pleading with his mind; _why can’t I just stop dreaming about it already?!_ As he took in the unfamiliar environment around him, he quickly recalled boarding the Hogwarts Express, and the candy wrappers upon the seat next to him reminded him of everything that had happened before he fell asleep. He sat up, rubbing his eyes with his gloved hand as Ron greeted him obnoxiously loudly:

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Heh,” was Ed’s still-drowsy reply. He looked up at Harry and Ron; Ron was still grinning about Ed’s sleepiness, whilst Harry had a weird look upon his face. Ed raised an eyebrow:

“What?”

“You had a look on your face when you woke up. Like you were having a nightmare or something.”

“Oh,” Ed said, cursing himself internally. He shrugged it off nonchalantly, offering the two of them a smile to hide the fact that Harry had it right on the money.

“So what were you two talking about before I interrupted?” Ed said, anxious to get the conversation away from any supposed nightmares he had.

“Houses,” said Harry. “We’re hoping for Gryffindor.”

“Ah,” said Ed. “Which one was that again? The one for smart people?”

“No, that’s Ravenclaw,” Ron said. “Gryffindor are for the brave ones.”

“Ah,” Ed repeated, scratching his head. Ron nodded, chewing on a pumpkin pasty. “An’ the other two are Hufflepuff and Slytherin.”

“And Slytherin’s the one no one likes, right?” Ed inquired.

“Right,” Ron and Harry said in unison. Harry looked at Ron:

“That’s the house Vol—I mean You-Know-Who was in, right?”

“Yeah,” said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ed asked.

“I’m just worried, y’know? If I don’t get into Gryffindor, I’ll be the first one in the family not innit!”

“Yeah, I remember you telling me that earlier. I’m sure you’ll get in just by the fact that every Weasley that ever went to Hogwarts has been in it,” Ed pointed out, rolling his eyes. Harry frowned at his inconsideracy:

“And what house do _you_ want to be in?” he inquired of the blonde. Ed’s answer was an unconcerned shrug.

Harry sighed; as he spent more time with the two boys, he decided that he liked Ron just a bit better than Edward; even though Ed was pretty funny at times, he seemed to have a ‘I don’t give a damn’ sort of attitude about him, and it kind of bothered Harry. Ron, on the other hand, was fun to be around and was easier to relate to than Ed, even though he and Ed were practically in the same boat when it comes to being new to the Wizarding world and all.

“You know, I think the ends of Scabbers’ whiskers are a bit lighter,” Harry said to Ron, trying to take the boy’s mind off of houses.

Pretty soon after that, it began to get dark. The three of them could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train was seemingly beginning to slow down.

Ed was the first one changed since he had left for King’s Cross that morning with half of his uniform on already. All he had to do was switch out his usual red coat for his black Hogwarts cloak. Harry saw the black symbol on the back of Ed’s coat and pointed to it:

“What’s that for?”

Ed froze, racking his brain for an answer to Harry’s question that wouldn’t be alchemy-related.

“…it’s an altered caduceus, a symbol from Greek mythology. I just thought it looked cool, y’know.”

Ed held his breath, closely observing Harry and Ron’s reactions to this statement, hoping that they’ll fall for it. Ron nodded in approval:

“It does look kind of neat,” the redhead agreed. Ed exhaled, quickly turning away to stash the coat away in his suitcase.

The incognito alchemist failed to notice Harry’s look of suspicion before he looked away, however; it was at that moment that Harry began to have doubts about Edward Elric. He shrugged this off as he and Ron pulled on their long black robes. Ron’s were a bit short for him; you could see his sneakers underneath them.

A voice echoed throughout the train announcing their arrival at the school. The train came to a complete stop.

Edward followed Harry and Ron out into the crisp night air, clasping his cloak as he spotted a lamp bobbing over the heads of the students. He heard a familiar voice:

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!”

Hagrid looked over in their direction; his big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

“All right there, Harry, Edward?”

Harry and Ed nodded at the friendly giant, and then looked at each other in curiosity.

“You know Hagrid already?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, he took me shopping in Diagon Alley,” Ed said. “You?”

“Same.”

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was rather dark on either side of them, meaning that there must be a thick forest on the school’s campus. Nobody spoke much; they were all trying to take in their mysterious surroundings.

“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid called over his shoulder. “Jus’ round this bend here.”

Edward was expecting something decent-sized, with several boring-colored buildings, like most other schools. What he saw was not that, however; he found himself instead gaping at a vast castle with numerous turrets and towers. Very medieval, magic-looking. The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a black lake, and the castle was perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky.

Edward wondered for a moment whether or not he was still on the train, dreaming, but then he recalled that his dream was not nearly this pleasant.

“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Ron immediately got into a boat without much hesitation; Ed, however, hesitated a lot more than the other students. Harry and Ron looked at him questionably.

“What’s wrong?” Ron asked.

“I…I’m just worried about how much weight these boats can take. I’m kind of, uh…heavy.”

The two boys in the boat stared at his petite figure with disbelief.

“Yeah right, just get in.”

Ed gulped but obeyed the redhead nonetheless. Just as he expected it to, the boat did lurch a tad as he stepped in, but it thankfully did not sink. The three boys decided to be safe and just leave it at three rather than four to their boat.

“Why are you so heavy? You don’t look fat in the slightest!” Ron said. Ed shrugged:

“Muscle, maybe…?”

“Everyone in?” shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. “Right then—FORWARD!”

And with that the little fleet of boats moved off all at once, floating on their own accord towards the towering castle. Everyone was silent as they stared at Hogwarts; it towered over them like a great beast just waiting to be challenged. Ed stared into its shadows with determination rather than with nerves or uneasiness. He looked upon the school with only one goal in mind, and that was to find out how to get his little brother’s body back, how to fix everything…

The only thing Edward Elric was uncertain of was whether or not that now involved a Philosopher’s Stone.

 

~~*e.s.*~~


	7. Decisions, Decisions...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a very difficult decision must be made by a very magical hat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Chapter Six: Decisions, Decisions...~

 

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

McGonagall pulled the door wide, revealing the immense entrance hall. Harry's eyes bugged out at the sight of it; it was big enough to fit the whole of the Dursley's house in it! The stone walls were illuminated with a number of flaming torches, just like Gringotts bank was. Edward tilted his head up to stare into the darkness that should've been the ceiling, though the ceiling itself was too high to even make out. He shook his head in disbelief; this school was becoming more and more stereotypical by the minute. How predictable.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor; as they neared the doorway leading into the Great Hall, Harry and Edward could hear the drone of hundreds of voices emitting from there--but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a smaller, empty chamber off the hall, away from the voices.

"...Welcome to Hogwarts. Now, in a few moments you will pass through those doors and join your classmates," she informed, nodding towards the doorway where the voices were coming from. "But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw...and Slytherin. Now, while you are here at Hogwarts, your House will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points; any rule-breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the House awarded the most points is awarded the House cup--"

"Trevor!!"

McGonagall frowned as Neville Longbottom leapt out from the crowd to seize his newly-found toad. A few laughs and giggles could be heard from the crowd itself, most of them belonging to Malfoy's gang and Edward.

"That was smooth," he retorted, grinning. Ron and Harry looked back at him and returned the grin. Neville, now red-faced, slowly looked up at McGonagall, whose piercing eyes were glowering down at him in stone-faced silence. He gulped:

"Sorry."

And with that he slumped back into the crowd of first-years. After casting a quick look first at Malfoy's gang and then at Edward, she lifted her head back up to address the rest.

"The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily."

And with that she walked off into the Great Hall.

"...It's true then, what they were saying on the train," a drawling voice from behind said. Harry, Ed and Ron turned to look for the source of the voice: Malfoy.

"Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."

Immediately whispers began to swarm through the crowd, the news spreading like wildfire. Edward raised an eyebrow at Malfoy, not understanding the enormity of what he just stated; what's the big deal about this kid, anyway? He seemed normal enough on the train...other than the scar and his unfortunate past…but was it really _that_ big of a deal?

Malfoy continued on, gesturing to his cohorts and introducing them, and then he walked up to Harry and announced his own name grandly. Ron involuntarily snorted at the sound of it, earning him a searing glare:

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask _yours_ ; red hair and a hand-me-down robe. You must be a Weasley."

"Lay off, will ya?" Ed raised his voice from behind him. Draco turned his glare towards the blonde boy, raising an eyebrow:

"And who are _you,_ shorty?"

Ed’s jaw locked in obvious fury, provoking a handful of chuckles and snorts from the crowd of first-years observing the scene before them.

“…I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for that last comment,” the short-tempered alchemist spoke threateningly through gritted teeth. “But let this be a warning to you; don’t.call.me.SHORT; it puts me in a bad mood.”

“Hah!” Malfoy replied sneeringly. “You don’t scare me.”

“I should,” Ed said, grinning mischievously. Malfoy watched with a thin, white-blonde eyebrow raised as the golden-eyed boy leaned upon the wall behind him and crossed his arms:

"The name's Elric. Edward Elric," he said with faux-grandiose, making fun of Malfoy's way of an introduction. Several giggles could be heard from the crowd in response to the pun; Draco Malfoy was not amused. He haughtily snubbed Ed and turned back to Harry:

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." Here he eyed Ron pointedly, earning him an eye-roll from the short alchemist behind him. "...I can help you there." And with that, he held his pale hand out to Harry, who just looked at it.

"...I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."

As if on cue, McGonagall reappeared behind Malfoy and tapped him on the shoulder with her attendance scroll. Malfoy wrinkled his nose and turned back to face her just as everyone else in the corridor did. Edward got up from against the wall and walked over to where Ron and Harry were, shooting Ron a friendly smile. Ron returned it, mouthing _thanks_.

"We're ready for you now; follow me," McGonagall announced. Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to steel, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, Ron and Edward behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

All three of their jaws dropped at their first sight of the hall.

Edward started into the sky-- _uhm, ceiling??--_ and wondered furiously whether that was magic or some sort of uber-advanced atmospheric alchemy at work, hoping it was the latter. His hopes were crushed as he heard the bushy-haired girl whisper behind him, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_."

Of course, the _one_ schoolbook he didn't touch during the summer. _Supreme unfairness of life_, he thought miserably, his antenna drooping slightly.

Harry, on the other hand, had never imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting already. Professor McGonagall led the first years up to the long table at the top of the hall where all the teachers were sitting. They came to a halt in a line facing the other students with the teachers behind them.

Harry, Ron and Edward gulped in unison as they stared out at the hundreds of faces, all of them looking at them, the first years.

They looked down again just in time to see McGonagall silently placing a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed, frayed, and extremely dirty old wizard's hat. Everyone began to stare at the hat, Harry noticed, so he stared at it too. For a few moments no one said a word. Edward yawned slightly as he looked upon the hat boredly...

The hat twitched. Edward nearly jumped in shock. _What the--what kind of alchemy is that??_

A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat began to sing:

_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me..."_

Ed stared on in astonishment as the hat continued to sing, momentarily wondering if the train dropped him off at the wrong school, the school for stereotypes and insane idiosyncrasies pertaining to what could be called magic but could very simply just truly be alchemy.

...But something in his gut told him that that was not the case.

_"...You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,"_

Ron bit his lip; he hoped with all his might that he was in that house. If not, he would be an embarrassment to the entire Weasley family; no Weasley had ever been in any house other than Gryffindor.

_"...Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,"_

Hermione cocked her head slightly; though she would prefer Gryffindor, she supposed Ravenclaw wouldn't be _too_ bad...

_"...Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends."_

Edward hated to admit it after all the negative things he had heard about Slytherin, but so far the lyrics describing that house seemed to suite him best. Not that it mattered too much to him what house he would belong to; after all, he truly would do anything to get his brother's and his own body back...

_Alphonse. I hope you're ok._

Harry, on the other hand, heard the lyrics for Slytherin and winced internally; he really didn't want to be in Slytherin. That was the same house that his parent's murderer was in, and the same house Malfoy will probably be in. Harry didn't like Malfoy too much after their meeting in the chamber.

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became still once again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry and Ed. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

"Hah, I actually like that idea better," Edward said, smirking. "Screw the hat, bring on the troll!"

Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell or wrestle anything, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel very brave or wise or anything at the moment. All he knew was that he so desperately did not want to be in Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbot, Hannah!"

A pink-face girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. The hat's mouth opened up again and everyone in the hall could hear it contemplating:

"Ah yes, hmm...hmm..."

And then it shouted: "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table to the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

Another Ravenclaw.

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

And the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers cat-calling.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

And so on and so forth. After a little bit of deliberation, the trio figured out that Edward would be the first of them to be sorted. He seemed both relieved to be getting it over with quickly and determined to be sorted well. Everything expect nervous, which made Harry jealous. Why couldn't he be like that?

"Elric, Edward!"

"Good luck!" Ron whispered as the blonde boy sauntered over to the stool and sat down. Professor McGonagall set the hat down upon his head and then stood back as its mouth opened up.

"Hmm. Edward Elric. Spawn of Hohenheim, correct? I can tell already that you're going to be a tough one...hmmm..."

Edward exhaled impatiently as he listened to the hat.

"Very bright mind--brilliant, actually...but very brave as well...ah, now what's this? Such... _determination_. DARK determination at that. And this darkness...your past actions precede that."

 _Ah hell_ , Edward thought. _If THAT'S what this damned hat is gonna judge me based on, then I'm a Slytherin for sure._

"And defiance and ambition...yes, you have the makings of a _great_ Slytherin..."

The hat took a deep breath as if to scream this out to the Great Hall:

"SLYTHER--"

...But it stopped short. Edward raised an eyebrow at it; "what gives?"

"...I see now...you live for someone else, rather than yourself...I can see this deep within your heart.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

McGonagall looked pleased as she swiped the hat off of him. Edward stood, stunned at what had just gone down, but at the same time pleased at the fact that the hat looked past his sins and mistakes. He turned back to see Harry clapping and Ron holding up a thumbs-up for him before he made his way down to the Gryffindor table. He sat down next to a pair of red-headed twins that looked a lot like Ron, and when they introduced themselves he found out that they were in fact the infamous Weasley Twins.

"Hello there, I'm Fred, he's George--"

"Oh, shove it. _I'm_ Fred, and this big lump over here is George--"

"Oy! Who's the big lump??"

Ed laughed at their shenanigans and then turned back to watch the rest of the sorting. Soon the bushy-haired girl was up. She almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned.

Hermione ran joyfully to the Gryffindor table and sat herself across from Edward, offering out her hand which he high-fived. The two of them turned and looked expectantly at Harry and Ron, who were beginning to look kind of pallid.

When Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called he got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking very pleased with himself. Edward too felt pleased; _I nearly ended up in his house!_

Harry felt himself shaking; there weren't many people left now.

"Moon"..., "Nott"..., "Parkinson"..., then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"..., then "Perks, Sally-Anne"..., and then, at last--

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall. Edward rolled his eyes; will this never end? Can't a guy get a freaking break?

" _Potter_ , did she say?"

" _The_ Harry Potter?"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat, waiting...

"Hmm, difficult. Very Difficult...plenty of courage I see. Not a bad mind, either...there's talent, oh my goodness, yes--and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now _that's_ interesting...but where to put you?"

"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin," Harry whispered, pleaded to the hat.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the hat. "Are you sure? You could be _great_ , you know, it's all here...in your head...in your mind. And Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that...no? Well, if you're sure--better be GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat's last word reverbed across the Great Hall, and Harry, feeling relieved, shakily walked over to the Gryffindor table and took a seat next to Hermione. He received high-fives from the Weasley twins (who were vehemently yelling, "We got Potter! We got Potter!") and many congratulations from everyone at the table, including Edward and Hermione.

Now it was Ron's turn.

He was pale green by the time he slumped onto the stool, shaking nervously beneath the hat. Edward saw Harry crossing his fingers underneath the table, shrugged, and followed suite for the heck of it.

"Ahah, _another_ Weasley!" the hat boomed. "I know _just_ what to do with _you_...

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry and Edward clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair across from Harry.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as the last first year, "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her attendance scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. A loud noise from across the table made Harry turn around in curiosity. Everyone was staring at the source: Edward.

"...What? It's just my stomach! I'm freaking hungry, leave me alone!"

They all laughed at Ed's defensiveness; Harry looked down at his empty gold plate, just now realizing how hungry he also was. The pumpkin pasties from the train seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore stood, beaming at the students, his arms opened wide as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

Everyone in the hall clapped and cheered as he sat back down. Harry didn't know whether or not to laugh, whilst Edward just gaped at the old man in confusion.

"Is he--a bit mad?" Harry asked Percy uncertainly.

"He seems cracked in the head to me," Edward muttered, his stomach growling again.

"Cracked?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Ed and Harry's mouths fell open; the dishes in front of them were now piled high with food. As Harry accepted the plate of food from Percy and began to scoop some onto his plate, Edward hungrily dumped as much food onto his plate as he could possibly fit and began ravenously shoveling it into his mouth. It was all delicious.

"That does look good," said one of the ghosts in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak. Ed looked behind his shoulder to acknowledge the ghost's presence; the piece of ham that was hanging out of his mouth fell out as his jaw dropped.

"You--you're--you're a--!!"

"A ghost, yes, my dear boy," the ghost said, chuckling at Edward's reaction. He blinked, shaking his head:

"Stuff just keeps getting weirder and weirder around here...ah well, good food." And with that he went back to stuffing his face. Harry looked at the ghost with pity:

"Can't you--?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"Pleasure," Edward muttered through a mouthful of Yorkshire pudding.

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you--you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would _prefer_ you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy--" the ghost began stiffly, but bushy-haired Hermione interrupted:

" _Nearly_ Headless? How can you be _nearly_ headless?"

Edward chewed and, after sliding a bit more roast beef into his already stuffed cheeks, turned to hear Nick's answer. Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed but nonetheless answered the curious girl.

"Like _this_." He seized his left ear and pulled; his whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it were on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried and did not succeed in beheading the poor fellow.

Edward's jaw dropped once again, this time a piece of roast beef falling out of his agape mouth rather than ham.

Looking pleased at the stunned looks on all the Gryffindor first years' faces; Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So--new Gryffindors! I do hope you're going to help us with the championship this year? Gryffindors need a good win, the Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable--he's the Slytherin ghost, you know."

When everyone had eaten as much as they could (Edward being one of the last one's done), the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, just in time for the desserts to appear. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor, pies, tarts, éclairs, pudding...

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed. Edward turned to Ron, a confused look on his face:

"Muggle?"

"It's what we call non-magic folk."

"Ah."

"What about you, Neville?" Ron said, turning towards the boy with the toad.

"Well, my gran brought me up, and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages..."

Edward munched on a warm piece of apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream and listened to everyone's stories. Then Hermione turned toward him:

"And what about you, Edward?"

"Yeah, Elric, let's hear about your family," Seamus said.

Ed gulped down the bit of pie in his mouth, and then tapped on his chin, wondering where to begin.

"Well, my dad's a wizard, or so I've been told he is. I'm not completely certain, though, 'cause he left my brother, my mom and I when I was three and Alphonse was two."

"Is your mom a witch?" Seamus inquired. Edward shook his head.

"No, she wasn't a witch. She was norm--a Muggle." He sighed; "she died about six years ago."

The others were silent for a moment, as if paying their respects for the loss of Ed's mother.

"I'm sorry," Neville said softly. Edward shrugged sadly, turning back towards the others. Hermione cocked her head to the side and asked:

"If your mother is dead and your father left you two, with whom do you and your brother live with?"

"...Well...recently we've been living with an old family friend and her granddaughter, but before we've just stayed at our old house, just the two of us."

"You and your little brother lived by yourselves?" Harry said increadously.

"Yeah." Ed shrugged again; "It's not that bad since we have each other."

A few "wow..."s and other admiring noises could be heard throughout the group that was listening in on Ed's story. Harry picked at his dessert after that, suddenly feeling like he and Edward had a lot more in common than he had initially thought they did.

Starting to feel a bit sleepy, he looked up towards the High Table, where Hagrid was drinking deeply, Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore were talking, and Professor Quirrell, with his absurd turban, was talking to some strange teacher. He had a mean face, hooked nose, greasy black hair and sallow skin, and when Harry's eyes met his, a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on his forehead.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head. Ron and Ed looked up from their plates.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"N-nothing."

The pain was gone as quickly as it had come, much to Harry's relief. He turned to Percy:

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?"

"Oh you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous; that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to--everyone know he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

"Dark Arts?" Ed muttered, glancing up at the teacher they were talking about. "I don't think I like the sounds of that..."

Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look back at him again. Edward too frowned at the teacher Harry was watching; he looked unpleasant.

After all of the desserts had finally disappeared, Professor Dumbledore got up again. The hall fell silent as he spoke:

"Ahem--just a few words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well," he said, his twinkling eyes flashing towards the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year; the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious, is he?" Ed muttered to Percy, who frowned.

"Must be," said the prefect. "It's odd, though, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere--the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" Dumbledore dismissed the school.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Upon entering the vast, fire-lit Gryffindor common room for the first time ever, all three of the boys had begun to feel a wave of exhaustion hit them. Edward realized that he was currently running on less than five hours of sleep from the previous night of spell-attempting, and on top of that he was suffering from intense travel lag. _I hadn’t ridden on a train since the last time Al and I went to see teacher!_ Ed realized as he followed Ron, Harry and all of the other Gryffindor boys up one of the two spiraling staircases that led to the student’s dormitories.

Their room was much bigger than Ed had expected it to be; it contained five four-poster beds hung with deep red drapings, a large bay window with a window seat overlooking the lake and all of their trunks and belongings. Ed found his stuff by the four-poster in between Ron and Harry, situated right next to the grand window. Upon opening his bed’s draperies, Ed found his favorite red cloak folded neatly upon his bed’s comforter, the black symbol on the back facing out.

“Hey Ed, what’s that symbol for?” Ron asked curiously from behind said blonde. Ed glanced at him, racking his mind for a good explanation. _I could just tell him the truth, that it’s a Flamel cross,_ he thought to himself. After all, what’s the likelihood that someone like Ron would know that that’s an alchemy-related symbol? In the end, however, he decided not to chance it, with Harry and the other two roommates listening in.

Ed shrugged as nonchalantly as one who was lying through his teeth could.

“I honestly don’t know. I just thought it looked cool.”

“Oh,” Ron said, looking back at the coat. “It really does, actually.”

“Mhmm,” Ed said, quickly swallowing the bile in his throat down before he choked on his lie.

“Percy said the showers were down the hall to the right, right?” Harry piped up as he rummaged in his trunk for his showering supplies. Ron nodded as he walked back to his own trunk.

 _SHIT_ , Ed thought suddenly; community showers were _not_ going to make it easy to hide his prosthetics. He sighed, resignedly deciding to adapt to showering in the middle of the night, when it was most unlikely for anyone else to be up. For the time being, however, he did take silent advantage of his roommates’ absences to change into his night clothes.

“Guess the gloves’ll have to stay on…” he muttered to himself as he examining his arm and leg in the solitude of his bed hangings. With his chest bare and both of his arms exposed, he extended his automail arm out in front of his face, clenching and unclenching his fingers, observing as each of the tiny little screws and metal plates contracted and released, forming the joints just like the ones in his left arm.

“Great food, isn’t it?” Ed heard Ron remark just as he was slipping his glove back on, concealing his secret like a dark mark.

“Yea,” he heard Harry respond. “…Ed? You awake?”

“Uh huh,” the young alchemist said, poking his head out of the blood-colored hangings, his mouth agape in mid-yawn. “At least, for now I am.”

“I know what you mean; I’m worn out,” Ron said, yawning as well before chastising his old rat about chewing on his sheets. Ed laughed tiredly, grateful that his annoying little Nova was tucked away in the owlery for the night. He glanced over toward Harry to see what he thought of Scabber’s antics, but the exhausted kid was already out for the night.

“…I should go to bed, too,” he commented to no one in particular.

“Yeah,” Ron concurred, tucking himself in. “We have an early day tomorrow…”

Ed followed suit, releasing his long hair from its braided entrapment and shaking it loose before plopping down onto the fresh, feathered pillows.

“…Hey, Ed?” Ron hissed from the right of him.

“Mhmm?”

“I…I’m really glad we’re in the same House.”

Ed smiled slightly as he replied: “Yeah, same here.”

He waited for a moment or so to see if the redhead would reply, but pretty soon Ed could hear stifled snoring emitting from that side of the room. He chuckled softly to himself and stretched, trying to do as his new friends did and find sleep…

Wow. He hasn’t even had a single day of classes yet, and Edward has already made two new friends. He felt a mixture of great excitement and sorrow at the same time; how would they feel if they found out his true purpose? Would they still be amicable to him if they knew of his past sins, knew that as soon as he learned of a way to bring everything back to normal at home he would leave the school? Would they look upon him as a monster, rather than a friend?

 _Of course they would_ , he thought miserably, his ports aching. _I’m not even fully human anymore…_

Ed opened his eyes up to the ceiling, sighing heavily. He knew that sleep wasn’t going to come to him anytime soon. He had too much on his mind, for one thing. That and it was so weird to be without his brother, without Alphonse.

 _Tick…tick…tick…_ the old, decrepit grandfather clock hanging from the wall opposite to Ed sounded, as if mocking the fact that the fatigued eleven-year-old could not find sleep. After glaring at it until it struck midnight, Ed hopped out of bed and made his way for his first midnight shower of the school year.

_This school is going to take a lot more getting used to than I thought…and I haven’t even started learning magic yet……_

~~*e.s.*~~


	8. Transfigurations and Transmutations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter that was aptly named for the author's frustration in getting two very similar words constantly mixed up.  
> Oh, and I guess stuff happens to Edward and co., too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Chapter Seven:  Transfigurations and Transmutations~

 

The Hospital Wing of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry consisted of a large, white room filled with numerous sick beds and shelves of potions and medicinal things. It also contained an office for the caretaker of the sick and injured, Madam Pomfrey, who was both a strict and caring woman dressed in white and red robes with a long, nurse’s headpiece. Edward entered the Hospital Wing early the morning of his first day of classes, uneasily clutching at his knapsack hanging off his shoulder with his gloved automail hand. Did Dumbledore brief the witch beforehand about tending to Ed’s automail recovery? Or was Edward going to have to explain everything to her and have to deal with yet another shocked, disgusted expression towards himself?

The witch looked up from the medicine cabinet she was organizing as Edward approached her, his black and burgundy robes billowing behind him as he walked. The two of them were the only ones in the room, the place empty due to it being barely the first day of school.

“Morning,” the witch greeted Ed, smiling thinly. “And what can I do for you, Mister…?”

He cleared his throat before answering:

“Edward Elric, ma’am. Professor Dumbledore sent me to check in with you.”

“Oh!” the witch said with recognition of the name. “ _You_ are the one with the automail prosthetics?”

“Y-yes,” Ed stammered.

“Yes, Dumbledore told me you’d come to see me today; come, into my office, now; it would do you no good if someone were to come in and see you with your shirt and pants off…”

Edward raised his eyebrow as he followed the witch into her little office as sat down in a large leather chair in the corner. Madam Pomfrey closed the heavy curtains on her little viewing window tight as she ordered the boy to take off his pants. Ed obeyed while she extracted a pair of spectacles from within her desk and sat upon a short stool in front of the young wizard.

“When was your surgery, Edward?” she inquired while examining his leg.

“In March of this year.”

Madam Pomfrey tutted:

“You’re barking mad. You know that, right?”

Ed looked up, startled at the little woman’s harsh language.

“How so?” he asked, careful to keep his tone respectful, for this woman was beginning to seem like someone not to be reckoned with. Madam Pomfrey’s frown deepened:

“It takes a grown man approximately two years to fully recover from automail installation, plus another six to eight months on top of that recovery for rehabilitation. You’re just a boy; even though in some ways your younger age would make you heal faster than some men, your recovery should still be well over a year long, and you shouldn’t even be walking around, let alone so nonchalantly!”

Edward cowered under the witches’ piercing stare:

“Sorry, m-ma’am……but I feel fine.”

Her fixed gaze did not wither for another thirty seconds, and then she exhaled. She patted his leg gently:

“Well, just you be careful, now. And do not be afraid to come to me if you’re feeling any sort of pain or if anything’s not working right. But please try not to break anything, I don’t know much about the mechanics behind automail, just the surgery.”

“Right,” Ed agreed. “I’ll be careful, I promise. My mechanic will kill me if I break anything, anyway.”

Madam Pomfrey chuckled lightly at this comment.

“Ok, well your leg checks out. Now let’s see that arm of yours.”

She finished her examination quickly and sent him off to breakfast with a hasty warning about lingering infections and what-not, fussing over him just like Granny Pinako did when he was back at Resembool. Ed was grateful for the lady’s care and thanked her immensely for her help and secrecy. He knew that having someone who knew how to properly care for his ports and prosthetics would definitely come in handy at a school he was to live at for over half the year.

As Edward Elric returned into the vast hallways leading to his mysterious magic classes, he looked down at his schedule with a forlorn feeling. _Can’t they at least provide us first-timers with a map of some sort??_ he thought frustratingly, taking the first of many uncertain steps of the day. As he approached one of the huge wooden, rickety staircases of the castle’s, however, it immediately unhooked from its platform and moved away from Ed’s initial destination. Ed could do nothing but watch with widened eyes, mouth agape as his frustration grew. _This is going to be a loooong day!!_

After sorting through his first set of twists and turns of the school day, he found the entrance to the Great Hall at last.

“Hey, Ed!” Ron greeted the blonde when he finally showed up to the breakfast table. “Where were you?”

“Hospital Wing,” he said without thinking. Ron and Harry looked upon him with concern, their question as to why he went there evident, even without either of them saying anything. Ed sighed and lied:

“I woke up feeling crappy, so I went and saw her. She gave me something for my stomachache; now I’m fine.”

“That’s good,” Harry said. “It wouldn’t be fun to be sick on the first day.”

“Right,” said Ed. _How the hell did I get so good at lying???_

“Ah, here’s the mail,” Percy said, pointing out the sudden influx of owls soaring into the Great Hall, carrying letters and packages and all sorts of stuff from the student’s family and friends at home. Ed and Harry tilted their heads up in awe at the awesome sight of all the student’s and teacher’s owls swooping in from above. Ed was not expecting Nova to bring him anything, but of course the little barn owl just _had_ to make a presence at the Gryffindor table that morning. Ed couldn’t help but grin at the size differences between his owl and a lot of the others; she was so tiny!

“Morning, Nova.”

Nova hooted a boisterous greeting in Ed’s face and pecked lightly at his gloved automail hand before helping herself to some bacon and eggs. Ed quickly swiped his hand away from her in fear, looking around him anxiously to make sure nobody was set off by the small metallic noise the owl’s tiny beak made upon the steel. Thankfully, though, the odd sound could not have possibly been heard over the noise of all the students’ talking in the echoing Great Hall.

“Aww!” the Hermione gushed at Nova, looking up at Ed. “Is this your little owl?”

Nova turned on her, eyes seething with anger as she promptly flew into Hermione’s face and fiercely pecked the bushy-haired girl’s unsuspecting nose.

“OW!” she squeaked. “Ow, why’d she do that?”

Ed, Harry and Ron couldn’t help but crack up at her shocked reaction; Nova looked quite pleased with herself as she returned to Edward’s breakfast plate.

“I like your owl, Ed!” Ron exclaimed in between laughs.

The blonde boy had to get his hysterical laughter under control before he was able to explain to the unamused Hermione:

“She’s got a tall complex, and you said the ‘L’ word.”

“Gee, sounds like someone else we know,” a drawling voice from behind Ed and Hermione said. Ed turned to glower at the owner of the voice: Malfoy.

“What are _you_ doing here?” the blonde growled.

“Just passing by. Couldn’t help but notice the height difference between you and the other barbaric Gryffindors. Of course it came to no surprise that it was you, Elric.”

Ron and Harry made it just in time to grab the hood of Ed’s cloak just as he lunged at Draco.

“Call me a pipsqueak just _one more time_ , you pallid freak!! _I DARE YOU--!!!”_

“Ah-HEM.”

Ed and Malfoy quickly shut up and looked nervously up at the teacher looming over them.

“Is there a problem here, boys?” McGonagall demanded of them, her voice low and dangerous in tonality.

“No, Professor,” Malfoy said haughtily. “I was just headed to class.”

And with that he quickly departed past the long Gryffindor table and out of the Great Hall before McGonagall could question him further. Ed gulped as McGonagall turned to him, Ron and Harry.

“…I shall see you three in class later this week, then?”

“Yes, Professor,” they mumbled unison, relinquishing their held breaths when she finally left their presence. Hermione soon passed as well, pausing in front of the trio momentarily:

“It’s barely the first day, and you three are _already_ getting into fights? Pathetic.”

And with an obvious snub, she left them gaping after her in disbelief.

“Can you believe the nerve of her??” Ron exclaimed to Ed and Harry.

“Come on, we’ll deal with that later,” Harry said, looking with worry at the quickly emptying Great Hall. “We had better get going if we don’t want to be late to our first class.”

“Yeah, the corridors here are ridiculous,” Ed agreed. Harry frowned at him as they hastened down the hallways:

“Why are you so short-tempered anyway? You almost got us in trouble with McGonagall.”

“Hey, you two didn’t _have_ to pull me away from him; the smartass deserved a fist to his face!” Ed said defensively, returning Harry’s frown ten-fold. Ron nodded in agreement with Ed:

“Malfoy’s a git, Harry. We found that out last night.”

“That is true,” Harry reluctantly agreed. “But that doesn’t mean we have the right to pick fights with him. We’ll get in big trouble for that.”

Ron nodded in agreement with this statement, and then the two British boys gave Ed a look. Ed grimaced:

“…I still say he deserves it…”

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

 “OOOoooOOO!! Are those ickle firsties I see??” Peeves the poltergeist screeched in his annoying voice. He swooped down and roughly bonked Ron, Harry and Ed each upon the head. Ed waved his fist in the air at him:

“Dammit, Peeves! Leave us the hell alone!!”

Peeves grinned happily:

“Tut tut; such _language_ , little Elric! Should tell on you, I should…”

And with one last bonk upon the short alchemist’s head, he cackled up and out of sight, leaving Harry and Ron to deal with the fuming Ed.

There was a lot more to magic, as Ed quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words. Edward was always a good, studious student, and he even managed to keep up in the most boring class in the entire school, History of Magic. Herbology and Astrology came pretty easily as well; many of the astronomical symbols written into the textbooks were very similar to those found in common alchemic texts he had read about before, and memorizing strange plants and fungi didn’t seem too trifling to the genius boy.

Wandwork, however, was a completely different story. Charms class was particularly troublesome to the first years that had never held a wand before in their lives. But at least most of the other students got some form of a result from their efforts. No matter how hard Ed tried, though, he could not make his stick of elm work properly.

“Don’t worry about it, Ed,” Ron said after a failed day of Charms class. “I couldn’t do anything, either. It’s only the first week, after all.”

“Yeah, but at least something _happened_ when you said the charm; I got no results whatsoever…”

It was Thursday, and the three of them had stopped at a large wooden door that they hoped held Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration class, their second class of the day. To their dismay, however, the witch teaching this class was not the one they were looking for.

“Hello,” the misty-eyed Professor said in an airy voice. “Are you here for Divination class?”

“No, ma’am,” Harry said. “We’re looking for Transfiguration…?”

The light-haired witch blinked:

“That’s on the other side of the school.”

The trio groaned exasperatedly as they bolted out the door.

All heads turned to the back of the room when Ed, Harry and Ron finally arrived. The trio was panting heavily, their hair and knapsacks askew, Harry’s glasses slipping off of his nose. Upon a quick scan of everyone in the room, though, the boys were relieved at their luck; their teacher was nowhere to be found.

“Phew!” Ron said, shooting Harry and Ed a grin.

“Tell me about it. Can you imagine the look on old McGonagall’s face is we were late?” Ed remarked. He looked up towards the front of the room and raised an eyebrow at a brown tabby cat sitting on the front desk. It stared piercingly at the trio for nearly thirty seconds straight before leaping off the desk and turning into an unamused Professor McGonagall. The entire class was amazed.

“That was bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. McGonagall’s expression did not waver as she approached them.

“Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Maybe if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter, Mr. Elric and yourself into pocket watches, at least one of you would be on time.”

“We got lost,” Harry reasoned, urging nods of agreement from Ron and Ed in response.

“Then perhaps a map?” McGonagall retaliated. “I trust you don’t need one to find your seats.”

Not even the temperamental Edward Elric could argue with the stern look upon the Headmistress’ face. They humbly took their seats and directed their full attention to McGonagall as she went back to the front of the room and began her lesson for the day.

“Welcome to Transfiguration One, first years. Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. Consider yourself warned.”

She then changed her desk into a pig and back again. The entire class was very impressed and could not wait to get started—all except Edward that is. He could not stop gaping increadously at McGonagall’s desk, alchemy’s most basic yet extremely important law, the Law of Equivalent Exchange echoing in his cranium. _How did she just blatantly disregard one of the most important laws of_ life _like that??_ It didn’t make any sense to him, how she could’ve turned something completely and utterly lifeless into a fully alive pig. He shook his head in disbelief; _what kind of illogical world have I stumbled into?_

“Mr. Elric! Are you _paying attention_?” McGonagall demanded suddenly. Ed blinked rapidly:

“Uh-huh,” he said, quickly dipping his quill into its ink and hurriedly jotting down all the notes he missed while in his minor dissociative state. McGonagall lectured long and quickly, going through important information much faster than the other Hogwarts teachers did. Edward did not have much trouble keeping up, unlike his peers who were dumbly stumbling through the lesson. The students soon realized that that they were not going to be changing anything into an animal for a long time, and after taking a lot of very complicated notes, they were each given a match a started trying to turn it into a needle.

“Do not be too discouraged if it doesn’t come naturally; transfiguration rarely does as it is the art of making something into what it is not. Even something as simple as this can prove to be trifling, especially for a first year.”

The simple transfiguration required barely any wand movement, just a teensy little flick or so, but it was the base around the movement that tricked everyone. Finally at one point Hermione Granger was able to get her match to become somewhat silver and pointy, but that was the most anyone got, which earned Miss Granger one of McGonagall’s rare smiles. Ed looked at her with envy, then glowered back down at his wand. If only he could use alchemy, then such a feat would be so _easy_ to achieve! It’s a simple transmutation; with just a clap of his hands that match would swiftly become a perfectly sharp needle. No wandwork required whatsoever…Ed looked around him, at Ron to his left who was also focused frustratingly upon his needle, and then at Harry to his right who was glancing around the room at all the other students’ attempts. Nobody was watching him directly. After a deep breath, Ed slid his hands into his lap beneath the full cover of his desk and softly clapped them together; looking around him quickly to make sure no one was alerted by the noise. Everyone was still focused on their wandwork, though, so without further ado Ed placed one palm upon the desk next to his match, his automail hand wrapped around his wand to make it seem like he was using it rather than alchemy.

The result was immediate; with a dim bit of light, the match became a needle.

“…Whoa,” Harry said in awe when he saw that Ed had done it. “How—what—?”

“I figured it out,” Ed said, grinning successfully. McGonagall passed by the table, shooting Ed’s needle a brief look of approval.

“Well done, Mr. Elric.”

“What’d you do to get it like that?” Ron asked curiously. Ed paused, and then shrugged:

“I don’t really know, honestly…”

Ron, as usual, fell easily for Ed’s lie and continued to stare at awe at the blonde’s success. Harry did not look nearly as convinced, though, which concerned Ed as he made a mental note to be more careful next time.

Soon afterwards Professor McGonagall dismissed the class, but only after assigning them a huge pile of homework, of course. The trio had been quite right to think she wasn’t a teacher to cross; they knew this immediately after their first talking-to and the threat of being turned into watches. As they walked out of the classroom, however, McGonagall’s voice could be heard over the chatter emitting from the sea of students in the hallway:

“Mr. Elric, may I speak to you for a moment?”

Ed turned and read the witch’s unfathomable expression cautiously, then told Ron and Harry to go on ahead and he’ll catch up later. They looked at each other but nonetheless obeyed their friend’s orders and began to make their way to their next class without him. Edward approached McGonagall’s desk, setting his knapsack down upon the floor next to her desk.

“I saw what you did, Elric.”

Ed blinked, his heart immediately beginning to race as he fought to keep his expression as unreadable as McGonagall’s.

“…You did not transfigure that match. You transmuted it.”

Ed’s eyes widened only slightly, for he was still fighting the urge to react. He swallowed the bile in his throat in an effort to keep his tone innocent:

“…I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Professor.”

“Don’t play dumb, Mr. Elric. I know very well that you are quite intelligent.”

At this remark Edward faltered at last, his expression finally revealing the nervousness he felt whilst being interrogated. McGonagall continued:

“The headmaster informed me of your alchemic knowledge and skill…and I have not been left in the dark about your past, either.”

“I’m sorry,” Ed muttered guiltily, looking away from his professor in shame. McGonagall was silent for a moment, and then her unfathomable expression broke slightly as the corners of her mouth lifted a bit.

“I do not wish to chastise you, Mr. Elric.”

Ed looked up: “I’m not in trouble…?”

“No.”

McGonagall then pulled a match out of her pocket and placed it upon the desk next to him, motioning for his to take out his wand.

“…But I know you can transfigure. Without alchemy.”

Ed raised an eyebrow at her questionably.

“I couldn’t make anything happen at all during class. What makes you think it’ll suddenly work now?”

“Humor me.”

The alchemist sighed but nonetheless obeyed her wishes and attempted for the umpteenth time to turn the match into a needle. To his great shock, this time the wand obeyed and transfigured the match into a perfectly shiny needle. He blinked, mouth agape at what he had just suddenly accomplished.

“…Wha--?!”

“Transfiguration is very similar to transmutation, as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now. Although you can perform alchemy easily, magic does not seem as simple to learn, even though it seems practically identical in many ways to your well-practiced ‘science,’ as you call it. Am I right so far?”

 “Yes ma’am,” Ed replied, frowning slightly. “But if alchemy is supposed to be magic, then why can’t I do magic like I can do alchemy?”

“Because you have created a mental block against magic, Edward Elric.”

Edward blinked, considering the possibility of such a dilemma. A mental block against something he has supposedly been practicing for years now? How could such a thing be? The more he thought about it, though, something clicked; the entire time he was practicing alchemy with his teacher and Alphonse, Edward saw the practice as a science, as a study of knowledge. The theorems behind the science were so logical that Ed never had a single doubt about whether its scientific mask was a façade or not. The laws of alchemy were always understandable, the transmutations successful…most of the time. But now everything has changed; the rules behind transmutation are now being unconsciously ignored. This world of magic has gone beyond all things scientific, and has even disproven alchemy’s number one law, the Law of Equivalent Exchange.

“…that would actually make sense. All this time I’ve seen alchemy as a science. I never would’ve considered the possibility of magic existing before finding out about Hogwarts…”

At that moment, something else clicked; if the rules of alchemy could be so easily ignored with magic, then perhaps magic really _could_ restore his brother’s body! In all honesty, he knew that he was just going on a hunch when deciding to go to Hogwarts, for he was still suspicious that Dumbledore was fibbing just to get him to go. But now he knew; now he was confident in the fact that such a thing was possible, that he could fix everything he had ruined before with alchemy.

“I had trouble in Charms, too,” he informed McGonagall. “Which is also wandwork…”

“Yes,” McGonagall said with a knowing look. “Now, about your use of alchemy in my classroom—“

“Right, won’t happen again,” Ed said quickly, an apologetic smile on his face as he recited the words he knew she wanted to hear: “From now on I’ll work at breaking my mental block and becoming as good of a wizard as I can, Professor.”

_Or at least good enough to fix Al’s life…_

“…Take care not to use alchemy anymore at Hogwarts, Mr. Elric. At all. Not just so you can learn magic properly, but also to protect your secret. It would look awfully suspicious to everyone else at the school if dark rumors about you were being spread.”

Ed gulped, realizing how unaware of the seriousness of his infraction he was.

“Right.”

McGonagall nodded once in approval as he lifted his knapsack off the floor and prepared to head over to Defense Against the Dark Arts with the rest of the first-year Gryffindors.

“…I should warn you, Mr. Elric, that not every teacher at Hogwarts is aware of your secret,” McGonagall spoke after him. Ed turned and stared at her, his golden eyes urging for an explanation to her ominous words. Instead, the cat-like woman turned her back to him dismissingly: “That’s all.”

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Friday was a great day in the lives of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Edward Elric; that was the day that they finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost. Ed yawned hugely as he sat down next to Harry and helped himself to some porridge.

“You ok, Ed?” Harry asked, noting the dark circles beneath the blonde’s eyes.

“Yeah, just didn’t get much sleep.”

“How so? You finished most of your homework really early last night, mate,” Ron said through a mouthful of food. Ed shrugged:

“I guess I just had too much on my mind.”

This much was true; the two things that were keeping him up the most were definitely homesickness and McGonagall’s mysterious warning. Try as he might, Edward could not grasp the meaning of the witch’s words. Big deal that not everyone knows about him; he wasn’t expecting the Headmaster to have a meeting about the Elric Brother’s Story or anything like that. Why did Professor McGonagall make it out to be such an issue?

“What have we got today?” Harry asked Ron.

“Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron.

“UGH,” Ed groaned in obvious distaste. “That means we have to see that bastard Malfoy again!”

“And it gets worse; Snape’s Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them—we’ll be able to see if it’s true.”

“Wish McGonagall favored us,” said Harry bitterly. “The fact that we’re from her House sure didn’t stop her from giving us a huge pile of homework.”

“I finished it already if you wanna see it later tonight,” Ed said, shrugging. “It wasn’t that hard, after all, I’ll show you what I did.”

Harry and Ron gaped at him, both suddenly feeling extremely grateful for having a genius friend like him.

Potions lessons were held in one of the vast dungeons of the old castle. The climate down below was much colder than up in the main castle, and Ed found himself buttoning up his cloak in an effort to prevent his arm’s port from aching in the chill. It was a creepy place, filled with pickled animals floating around in glass jars all around the walls along with many other hideous items to add to the darkness.

“You’d think this was a class on mad science or something,” Ed commented, pausing to make a face at a weird, glass-eyed creature staring at him from one of the larger jars against the wall. He was caught off-guard as Malfoy purposely shoved roughly into him as he passed by, stopping only to shoot Ed a nasty smile. Ed was about to lunge angrily at the brat, but stopped himself as Professor Snape called to them impatiently to hurry up and take their seats.

Snape’s monotone voice quickly began to bore Edward to tears; it was bad enough that he was already sleep-deprived. If Snape didn’t hurry up and make his class more interesting, Ed was surely going to conk out.

During roll call, however, Snape paused at Harry’s name, prompting snickers from Malfoy and his goons.

“Ah, yes,” he said softly. “Harry Potter. Our new— _celebrity_.”

Ed lifted his head from his desk, cocking his head slightly. The tonality of Snape’s voice changed suddenly when addressing Harry. Ed could hear something underneath the words spoken, something dark and sinister, possibly? He looked up at the teacher, into his dark, black eyes. They were cold and empty and made him think of dark tunnels…

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” Snape began to address the class, his voice back to its boring self. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but the class was able to catch every word. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here,”—Ed celebrated internally at hearing this—“many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…”

And he lost Ed again; the alchemist sighed, slumping lazily in his seat. More silence followed what was left of his little speech before most of the class tuned out. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows while Hermione Granger looked absolutely desperate to prove herself to the Professor.

“Potter!” Snape said suddenly, causing the dozing Edward to jump in his seat, smacking his elbow upon the hard marble table in front of him. The class’ attention immediately reverted to the clumsy boy, but their laughter was quickly stilled by a cold look from Professor Snape. Ed sat up annoyedly as the teacher looked back at Harry.

“Tell me, Potter; what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

 _Powdered root of what to an infusion of HUH?? If he bullshitting Harry or something?_ Ed thought, shrugging as the desperate Harry glanced first at him, then at Ron, who was unfortunately as stumped as he was. Hermione, on the other hand, looked desperate as she thrust her hand into the air.

“I don’t know, sir,” said Harry.

Snape’s lips curled into an ugly sneer.

“Tut, tut—fame clearly isn’t everything.”

“Look, sir, you can’t expect him to know everything on the first day,” Ed pointed out reasonably. Snape’s eyes bore into the boy’s skull as he spoke strictly:

“That is the second time you have interrupted my class, Elric. One more time and your House is losing points.”

Ed blinked; _what the fuck???_

“…Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

Hermione’s stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry did not have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter. Ed and Ron were simultaneously glaring hatefully at the trio, however, Ed debating whether or not to risk losing points from Gryffindor in order to throw his cauldron at them.

He blinked again, realizing how bad of an idea that would be. What would his explanation be for his strength?

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?”

 _That is so damn unfair!!_ Ed said, shaking with fury. Snape _still_ wasn’t through yet, though.

“What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

At this Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

“I don’t know,” said Harry quietly. “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?”

A few people laughed; Snape, however, was not pleased.

“Sit down!” he snapped at Hermione before bearing down upon Harry:

“For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren’t you all _copying that down_?”

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, “And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter.”

Ed, Harry and Ron just looked at each other in disbelief.

Potions did not improve at all for the trio. Soon they were all separated into pairs and set to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. The tyrannous teacher swept around in his long black cloak, criticizing left and right (except for Malfoy, who seemingly could do no wrong in Snape’s eyes). Ron was paired with Ed, who had the potion finished before anyone else in the class. But, of course, his good work was not recognized because Snape was too busy praising the mediocre Slytherins.

Just then, clouds of acrid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus’s cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people’s shoes. Ed quickly hopped upon his stool to avoid the quick-approaching poison, the rest of the class soon doing the same while Neville, who had been drenched in the poison when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

“Idiot boy!” snarled Snape, clearing the spilled liquid away with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

Ed stepped down from his stool as Snape ordered Seamus to take the whimpering Neville to the hospital wing. He lifted his left boot up to examine its sole, and then blanched; there was indeed a small hole on the bottom, and Ed could see the bottom of his steel toes through it. He bit his lip in concern; hopefully no one would notice—after all, it really wasn’t _that_ big of a hole, and it was on the bottom of the boot. No big deal, really.

“You—Potter—why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he’d make you look good if he was wrong, did you? That’s another point you’ve lost for Gryffindor.”

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but then he saw Ron shaking his head in warning out of the corner of his eye. Ed, on the other hand, was not about to remain silent:

“Harry was nowhere near Neville; he didn’t know what the hell he was doing wrong!” Ed yelled at Snape, who turned around sharply and glared at Ed dangerously.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Ron kicked Ed from behind their cauldron:

“Don’t push it; I’ve heard Snape can turn very nasty!” Ron hissed.

“How _dare_ you, Elric—“

“Oh, I dared,” Ed continued on despite Ron’s warning. “You’ve been an unfair jerk this entire time, and you _know_ _it_ \--!”

Snape slammed his hand down upon the table in front of Edward, the sound booming across the dead-silent dungeon classroom. Ed had officially said too much. Snape growled, his voice reverting back to the way it sounded at the beginning of class that day, when he was addressing Harry so hatefully:

“…Detention, Elric. Monday evening, seven-o’clock SHARP. How’s that for unfair?”

Ed stood his ground, returning the glower full-force—though not without difficulty. The look in Snape’s eyes chilled the boy to the core, for it was a look so cold and evil in nature that it could’ve made Satan himself cower in fear.

“Get out of my classroom,” Snape finally growled at the alchemist as he turned away. Ed smirked as he picked up his knapsack and waltzed right out of the dungeon, feeling satisfied despite having earned a detention. The look on his face was so full of triumph, in fact, that not even Malfoy dared to break the silence with his usual annoying cackling.

“…As I said before, no foolishness will be tolerated in my Potions lessons. If anyone wishes to follow Mr. Elric out, now is the time to do so.”

Silence.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

“I can’t believe you just went off on Snape like that!” Harry exclaimed at Edward as the trio walked over to Hagrid’s house that afternoon. Edward huffed, his antenna drooping slightly:

“Nobody else was standing up to him.”

“True, and you _were_ brilliant…but seriously, mate. Snape is not someone to mess with,” Ron pointed out. “You saw how scary he was when he lost his temper.”

“He didn’t scare me.”

Harry raised his eyebrows; Snape sure did scare _him_! How was Ed so tough?? How was he so unhesitant against the tyrant of a Professor when all Harry could do was sit and sulk in the greasy-haired man’s presence? As they approached Hagrid’s small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest, Harry sighed and looked at Ed gratefully:

“…Thanks anyway.”

Ed looked questionably at Harry:

“Thanks for what?”

“For sticking up for me; wish I were that brave.”

Ed blinked in surprise at his choice of words, then offered Harry a small smile.

“Hey, what’re friends for?”

When Harry knocked upon Hagrid’s door they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid’s voice rang out, saying, “ _Back_ , Fang— _back_.”

Hagrid’s big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

“Hang on,” he said. “ _Back_ , Fang!”

He finally let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound as the trio entered. Edward eyed the dog cautiously, sizing up its enormity with trepidation.

“Make yerselves at home,” said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Edward and immediately knocked him down and started licking his ears. Though he was crushing the petite blonde with his massive weight, like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

“Get offa him, Fang! _Back_ , yeh mangy mutt…”

After a bit of a struggle, Hagrid finally managed to lift the hound off of Ed’s back and helped the fallen alchemist up from the dusty floor of the hut.

“Don’ mind Fang; he just likes people.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” remarked Ed as he wiped the slobber off of his face, eyeing the dog threateningly. Harry laughed, the turned to Hagrid:

“This is Ron.”

“Another Weasley, eh?” said Hagrid in response, glancing at Ron’s freckles. “I spent half me life chasin’ yer twin brothers away from the forest.”

The half-giant sat down with a plate full of lumpy, raisin-filled rock cakes for the boys, obviously eager to hear about their first week of school. As the trio regaled their adventures in trying to find their classes and how their classes went along, Fang lazily rested his head upon Edward’s knee and drooled all over his robes. All three of them were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch “that old git,” and became even more overjoyed at his vicious commentary about the evil Mrs. Norris.

“D’yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can’t get rid of her—Filch puts her up to it, I know he does.”

“Heh,” Edward said, shaking his head. “Nobody likes that damn cat...my brother would love her, though, knowing Al.”

“He likes cats?” Ron asked amusedly. Ed nodded, grinning:

“He _loves_ them! I remember when we were little he’d always pick up stray cats and beg mom to let him keep them. Trust me, he’ll get along just fine with Filch’s cat next year. Wait and see.”

“Good. Maybe he can distract her so she doesn’t constantly follow us around next year,” Ron said. “Or even better, he could scare her away with that armor of his!”

“Armor?” Harry asked questioningly. Ron nodded as Hagrid inquired:

“Have you never seen his brother? He wears an old suit of armor aroun’ alot.”

“Why?” Harry asked. Ed shook his head:

“He’s into that sort of thing. It’s like a hobby of his, wearing that armor.”

_I have got to come up with a better excuse than that!_

The trio then got to telling about Snape’s lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape hardly liked any of the students.

“But he seemed to really _hate_ me.”

“Rubbish!” said Hagrid.

“You didn’t see it, Hagrid,” Ed said. “He wouldn’t stop picking on him. He hammered him with ridiculous questions and accusations.”

“See? He hates me, I know it!”

“Why should he hate you, Harry?”

Yet both Harry and Ed couldn’t help thinking that Hagrid did not quite meet Harry’s eyes when he said that.

“You should’ve seen how Ed stood up to him, Hagrid,” Ron piped up. “It was bloody brilliant!”

Hagrid turned on Edward, who suddenly looked very, very guilty.

“You did what?”

“He deserved it,” was all Ed said in response. He huffed, blowing at his long blonde bangs as he muttered, “and I got a detention for it, too.”

“Yeh got a detention on the first week??” Hagrid said increadously. “What exactly did you bleedin’ _say_?”

“He said--!” Ron began but was interrupted:

“Something that really shouldn’t be repeated!” Ed said, glancing a warning at Ron. “Look, I lost my temper, won’t happen again, I swear.”

“Too bad; you’re my hero for that, mate.”

“Ron!” Harry said, trying hard to hide his amusement in front of the disapproving Hagrid.

“What? Snape had it coming!”

“True that,” Ed said, grinning his mischievous grin. Hagrid sighed:

“Just watch yerself, Ed. Yeh can get into serious trouble here by back-sassing a teacher like that.”

Ed nodded, then zoned out momentarily as Hagrid and Ron talked about some guy named Charlie—one of Ron’s many family members, perhaps? Nonetheless, the blonde yawned as he finally offered the dreary Fang some attention, scratching the boarhound behind his ears. Though he had gone through an entire conversation after talking about his brother, his mind was still on their secret, on devising a plan to free Al from his metallic entrapment. _I should probably write to him, soon,_ he thought idly.

His train of thought was broken suddenly when Harry let out a loud exclamation:

“Hagrid! That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might’ve been happening while we were there!”

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely did not meet Harry’s eyes as he grunted and simply offered him another rock cake. Ed read the article over Harry’s shoulder; _the vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day…_ ok, but who’s vault?

“What was in there before?” Ed asked Hagrid. To his dismay, though, the gamekeeper simply shook his head:

“That’s top-secret Hogwarts business, I’m afraid.”

But when the trio was finally walking back to the castle for dinner, Harry told Ron and Ed about the grubby little paper-wrapped package that was extracted the day he went with Hagrid. Ed found his curiosity was spiked yet again by this information, questions swirling around in his brain. One question stood out more than the others, though, one that he was almost certain he had already figured out the answer to:

Where was that mysterious package now?

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Draco Malfoy soon became not just Edward’s worst enemy, but more like the very bane of the trio’s existence. All three were grateful for the fact that first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn’t have to deal with Malfoy that much except during passing periods. However, a grim notice pinned upon the bulletin board in the Gryffindor common room made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday—and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

“Typical,” said Harry darkly. “Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy.”

“I’ll tell you what’s typical,” Ed remarked, “that a magic school would hold lessons on flying on a broomstick.”

He rolled his eyes; what type of stereotypical nonsense had he gotten himself into now? And what’s next, summoning spirits and reading tea leaves??

“You don’t know that you’ll make a fool of yourself,” said Ron reasonably. “Anyway, I know Malfoy’s always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that’s all talk.”

“What’s Quidditch?” said Ed. Ron gaped at him.

“What’s _Quidditch_??” said a pair of voices in unison behind him. Ed turned to see Ron’s twin older brothers, Fred and George standing there, a look that was somewhere between shock and delight plastered upon their comical faces.

“Only the most fantastic game ever invented by wizardkind,” George—or was it Fred?—said extravagantly.

“Oh, so it’s a sport of some sort?” Ed said. The twins tapped upon their chins, then nodded:

“Something like that,” they said together.

“You’ll have to come to the first game of the year, mate,” Fred—or maybe George—commanded the blonde. “Then you’ll be able to see it first-hand.”

“We can explain it to you, but we’ll probably be here all day,” the other twin said. “Not that it’s too terribly complicated, but breakfast is waiting, y’know?”

And with that they were off, leaving Ed standing back in between Ron and Harry, his face twisted in confusion.

“…What just happened?” he asked Ron, who shook his head.

“Just ignore them; I’ll explain Quidditch to you over breakfast.”

“Huh,” Ed said, shaking his head. “Sorry, but I think I’m gonna head over to the library for a while before class starts, actually. You can tell me later, ok?”

“The library?” Harry asked.

“What do you want to go there for?” said Ron in confusion. Ed grinned excitedly:

“I haven’t been there yet; I want to check it out!”

Harry and Ron blinked, looked at each other, then shrugged.

“Ok then,” said Harry. “See you later, then.”

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Three-thirty came entirely too soon for Edward’s liking, and he reluctantly made his way down the front steps onto the grounds for the Gryffindor’s first flying lesson. He found himself trying his hardest to forget every bit of practical physics he had ever learned about in an effort to be at least somewhat decent at managing a broomstick. He ran up and took his place next to Ron and Harry just as their instructor, Madam Hooch arrived. She had short, gray hair and bright yellow eyes that reminded the boys of an eagle or a hawk.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she barked suddenly. “Everyone stand next to a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a Gryffindor boy asked shyly. “But…what broomsticks?”

Madam Hooch eyed the boy as she extracted her wand and waved it over her head, causing dozens of broomsticks to fly over to where they were and land obediently right next to each student. Ed glanced at his broom; it was very aged and fragile looking with some twigs sticking out at odd angles. He suddenly found himself wondering in concern if the thing would hold up his massive, automail-induced weight.

“Now, everyone stick your right hand over your broom,” called Madam Hooch at the front, “and say ‘Up!’”

Ed raised an eyebrow at her but nonetheless obeyed her orders:

“…Up!”

Nothing happened. The broomstick didn’t even twitch. He glanced over at Ron, who was also having no luck with the maneuver whatsoever, then at Harry who had already managed to get his broomstick in his hands. He looked at Ed, grinning triumphantly; Ed offered him a thumbs-up, then tried again:

“Up!”

Nothing.

“Up!!”

Zilch.

“UP, dammit, UP!!!”

Nada.

Ed exhaled frustratingly as he watched more and more students succeed at the task. Why was he no good at any of this magic stuff??

Suddenly, the alchemist had an epiphany; he lifted his right hand—his hand of automail—up to his face, frowning slightly in thought. Then, on a whim, he stepped to the right of his broomstick and raised his left, fleshy hand up above the stick.

“…Up!” he commanded the broomstick, which obeyed his human hand immediately. Ed grasped the handle of the broomstick firmly, wrinkling his nose in disgust; even inanimate objects could tell the difference between man and machine.

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, HARD,” said Madam Hooch. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle—three—two—“

But poor Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had sounded.

“Come back, boy!” she shouted, but Neville kept on reluctantly rising, that is, until he gasped and slipped sideways off of the broom—

WHAM!!

“Ooooo…” Ed, Harry, Ron, and everyone else winced as they heard a nasty crack reverb throughout the air. Madam Hooch quickly ran over to Neville, her face as white as his.

“…Yep. Broken wrist,” she tut-tutted, gently helping the poor Gryffindor up. “Come on, boy, it’s all right—up you get.”

She turned to the rest of the class.

“None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch!!’”

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

“Did you see his face, the great lump?”

The other Slytherins joined in.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” piped up Parvati Patil.

Ed rolled his eyes as a Slytherin girl replied nastily to the poor Gryffindor girl’s defensive words. His attention was on what Malfoy was up to, the ass.

“Look, it’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him.”

The Remembrall glittered in the sunlight as he held it up. Ed opened his mouth to yell at him when Harry’s voice lifted up over the crowd:

“Give it here, Malfoy.”

Malfoy smiled nastily:

“…I think leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find…”

He ran over to his broomstick and hopped on, bringing about several gasps from the audience before him.

“…how about up a tree?”

“Give it _here_!” Harry demanded, but Malfoy was already up and off. Harry gulped; turned out the blonde prick hadn’t been lying, he really could fly.

“Come and get it, Potter!”

Harry grabbed his broom, ignoring several warnings coming from Hermione Granger. He didn’t care at this point if he’d get them all in trouble; blood was pounding in his ears as he mounted the broom and kicked off into the air after Malfoy. Ed and Ron looked up in awe at the two boys arguing mid-air.

“…Harry really is a natural,” Ron commented enviously. Ed nodded once, looking down at his own broom in wonder…

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Harry didn’t get expelled—on the contrary, much to everyone’s surprise, he actually got a spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

“You’re _joking_ ,” was Ron’s incredulous reaction to the news. It was dinnertime and Edward was less shocked—granted this was probably due to the fact that he was too busy stuffing his face to care too much about wizard sports, but he was still grateful that his friend wasn’t being sent home. Many a Gryffindor came up to Harry to congratulate him on his success, including Fred and George who were apparently also on the team. All was fine and dandy until Malfoy and his goons approached sneeringly.

“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?”

“Never,” Ed remarked, a piece of steak-and-kidney pie sticking out of his mouth. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him, then turned back to Harry as Harry spoke:

“You’re a lot braver now that you’re back on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you.”

“Please, Potter,” Malfoy said drawlingly.

“He’s got a point,” Ed said, belching. “Seriously, a skinny, scrawny thing like you really _needs_ a couple of body guards around to protect. After all, you really do look fragile, Malfoy.”

“Shove it, Elric. I’d take you on _anytime_!” said Malfoy. Suddenly he paused, then smiled:

“Tonight, if you want, actually. Wizard’s duel. Wands only—no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose? That’s right, you _are_ Muggle-born, aren’t you—“

“Of course he has,” interjected Ron, wheeling around. “I’m his second, who’s yours?”

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them each up.

“Crabbe,” he decided finally. “Midnight it is, then. We’ll meet you in the trophy room; that’s always unlocked. That is, so long as you don’t chicken out, Elric.”

“You wish, Malfoy,” Ed said threateningly, grinning evilly.

When Malfoy had gone, the three of them looked at each other.

“What _is_ a wizard’s duel?” said Harry. “And what did you mean you’re Ed’s second?”

“Well, a second’s there to take over if you die,” said Ron casually. Catching the look on Harry and Ed’s faces, he added quickly, “But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other, Ed. I bet he expected you to refuse anyway.”

“As if! I’d rather just give the ass a good hit to the jaw, if you know what I mean,” Ed growled, clenching his automail hand threateningly. “That’d do more damage than measly sparks…”

“I like that idea,” commented Ron. “Just throw away the wand and punch him in the nose if all else fails.”

“ _Excuse_ me?”

The three of them looked up; it was Hermione Granger.

“Can we help you?” said Ed.

“Can’t a person eat in peace in this place?” said Ron.

Hermione ignored them and spoke to Harry:

“I couldn’t help overhearing what you guys and Malfoy were saying—“

“Bet you could,” Ron muttered.

“—and you _mustn’t_ go wandering around the school at night; think of the points you’ll lose Gryffindor if you three are caught, and you’re bound to be. It’d be really selfish of you all to go.”

“And it’s really none of your business,” said Harry.

“Goodbye,” said Ron and Ed in unison.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

“Half-past eleven,” Ron muttered at last. “We’d better go.”

Edward rubbed his hands together eagerly; as Malfoy’s sneering face re-entered his dark thoughts for the umpteenth time he grinned at the thought of having his big chance to beat the twirp up face-to-face. They picked up their wands and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and into the Gryffindor common room. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them, “I can’t believe you’re going to do this.”

A lamp flickered on; it was Hermione Granger.

“ _You!_ ” the trio said in accusatory unison.

“Go back to bed!” said Ron furiously.

“I almost told your brother,” Hermione snapped, “Percy—he’s a prefect, you know; he’d put a stop to this.”

She then turned on Edward:

“And _you_ ; do you honestly enjoy serving detentions enough to risk getting yet another one?”

Ed grimaced at the memory of his unpleasant detention with Snape the Monday before; though it wasn’t _too_ awful, the simple, annoying tasks that Snape had set up for the young Elric to perform, the ass’ very presence was what made the detention so horrid to serve. The grouchy Professor was constantly shooting Ed nasty looks and what-not during the two hour punishment.

“Trust me, we _know_ his brother’s a prefect,” Ed said, sharing a prolonged roll of the eyes with Ron. “And it’ll definitely be worth another detention to payback Malfoy for all his stupidity.”

Harry, on the other hand, couldn’t believe that anyone could be so interfering.

“Come on,” he said to Ron and Ed as he pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. Hermione wasn’t going to give up so easily, however. She followed Ron out into the hallway, hissing at them like an angry goose.

“Don’t you _care_ about Gryffindor? Do you _only_ care about yourselves? _I_ don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup, and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing—“

“Will you just go away already??” Ed growled, silencing the ranting girl immediately. “Just go back to your dormitory and leave us be!”

Hermione frowned:

“All right, but I warned you, you just remember…oh no…”

The three boys turned to see what exactly Hermione was ‘oh no’-ing about and nearly laughed out loud; poor nagging Hermione in an effort to leave the rule-breakers instead found herself facing an empty portrait, finding herself to be stuck outside of the Gryffindor common room.

“ _Now_ what am I going to do??” she asked shrilly.

“Your problem,” Ed said.

“…I’m coming with you!”

“NO,” Ron and Ed said forcefully. Hermione frowned:

“Do you two _honestly_ think I’m going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I’ll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up.”

“You’ve got some nerve—!“ Ron began loudly, but Harry interrupted sharply:

“Shut up, both of you! I heard something.”

All three were silent as they listened upon a sort of…snuffling?

“Is it Mrs. Norris?” breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.

“Let me kick her, I owe her a boot to the skull,” Ed hissed eagerly, earning himself a look of reproach from Miss Granger.

But it wasn’t Mrs. Norris; it was Neville. He was fast asleep on the floor, and he jerked awake when the quartet approached.

“…Thank goodness you found me! I’ve been out here for hours, I couldn’t remember the password to get in,” to poor, tired boy said sleepily.

“Keep your voice down, Neville,” Harry warned. “The password’s ‘Pig Snout,’ but it won’t help you now, the Fat Lady’s gone off somewhere.

“Oh no!” Neville cried despairingly. Ed glanced at the boy:

“By the way how’s your arm?”

“Fine now that Madam Pomfrey mended it.”

“Good—well, look, Neville, we’ve got to be somewhere, we’ll see you later—“Ron began but was interrupted immediately:

“Don’t leave me!!” cried Neville yet again, scrambling desperately to his feet. Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville.

“If either of us gets caught, I’ll never rest until I’ve learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you.”

Hermione opened her mouth, most likely to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but before she could utter a word Edward hastily clasped a (non-automail) palm to her mouth and hissed at her to keep quiet—“ _now_.”

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

When the trio—no, _quintet_ now—finally arrived in the trophy room, they found that Malfoy and Crabbe had not arrived yet. Ed already had his wand out just in case of a sneak attack or something on Malfoy’s part (though he wouldn’t give the jerk that much credit…). They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. The minutes crept by.

“He’s late,” Harry commented concernedly.

“Maybe he’s chickened out,” Ron whispered.

Then a sudden noise in the next room made them jump; Ed had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak—and it wasn’t Malfoy.

“Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner.”

“Shit, it’s _Filch_!” Ed hissed in fury at his horror-struck companions. “Malfoy tipped him off, the pale little fuc—!!“

“Shut it, he’ll hear you!” Harry hissed as he waved madly at the others to follow him as quickly as  possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch’s voice. Neville’s robes had barely whipped ‘round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

“They’re in here somewhere,” they heard him mutter, “probably hiding.”

“This way!” Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. As Ed passed one that looked identical to his little brother’s soul’s encasement, he clasped an automail palm to his mouth to stifle his soft gasp of recognition, glancing quickly behind him to make sure Filch wasn’t on their tails as he took one last look at the familiar helmet and ran to catch up with the others. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak as Ed inadvertently ran into him—he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into another suit of armor that once again resembled the youngest Elric brother.

The vibrant echoes of the metallic clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

“RUN!” Harry and Ed yelled in unison, and the five of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following—they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead, without any idea where they were or where they were going—they rippled through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway.

“I think we’ve lost him,” Harry panted, leaning against the cold stone wall as he attempted to catch his bearings. When he looked up he saw that they were standing near their Charms classroom, which was miles from the trophy room they had run away from.

“I— _told_ —you!” Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest. “I—told—you—all.”

“Shut up already,” Ed said huffily, joining Harry against the wall in an effort to cool down. He gripped at his leg’s paining port, coughing as he momentarily realized that his recent sprint halfway across the castle probably qualified as what Granny Pinako would call strenuous activity. _Oops_.

“You ok?” Harry whispered to the alchemist once he had finished hacking. Ed hesitantly removed his gloved hand from his mouth, praying to a god he no longer believed in that there was no blood upon the white material. He nodded finally, relived that the white material remained crimson-less.

“We’ve got to get back to Gryffindor tower,” said Ron, “quickly as possible.”

“Malfoy tricked me,” Ed growled. “He was never going to duel with me, the spineless _ass_. He set us up--how could I have been to _stupid_??”

“Now you know, don’t you, Ed?” Hermione chastised. Ed clenched his fists, trying his hardest to refrain from hitting a girl.

“Let’s just go.”

Just then, however, the doorknob to the Charms classroom rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. That something, unfortunately, was Peeves, and he was squealing in delight at the sight of the quartet of rule-breakers.

“Shut up, Peeves—please—you’ll get us thrown out,” Harry pleaded with the poltergeist.

Peeves continued to cackle:

“Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty naughty, you’ll get caught.”

“Not if you don’t give us away, Peeves, please.”

Ed had to give Harry credit for being so contained; he had to bite the inside of his cheek in order to refrain from going off on the dumb ghost.

“Should tell Filch, I should,” said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. “It’s for your good, you know.”

“Get out of the way!” snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves—

Big mistake.

“STUDENTS OUT OF BED!!” Peeves bellowed, “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!!!”

Ducking under Peeves the quartet ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door—and it was locked.

“This is it!” Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. “We’re done for! This is the end!”

“It’s your damn fault!!” Ed growled accusingly. “You’re the one that tried to punch _the ghost_!”

They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves’ shouts.

“Here, move it!” Ed commanded Harry and Ron. “I can break it down—“

“Oh, move _over_ ,” Hermione snarled. She grabbed Ed’s wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, “ _Alohomora!_ ”

The lock clicked and the door swung open—they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening. Filch had finally arrived at the scene, but Peeves was giving him as much hell as he had given them, thankfully. The two of them outside the dark corridor went at it for a while, until they heard Peeves cackle annoyingly and whoosh away, leaving an uber-pissed Filch alone and cursing in rage at the poltergeist.

“He thinks this door is locked,” Harry whispered. “I think we’ll be ok—get _off_ , Neville!”

Neville whimpered but nonetheless relinquished Harry’s sleeve. Harry looked at him: “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

“Uh…” Ed said when he had turned around to see what Neville was so scared off. Harry gulped as he caught sight of the alchemist’s expression, then hesitantly turned his head to see…for a moment he was sure he’d walked into a nightmare, for this was just too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.

“I think we’ve found that off-limits corridor Dumbledore told us about, guys…” Ed whispered shakily.

The quartet had found themselves looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads, three pairs of rolling, mad eyes, three noses, three mouths that were dropping big slobs of drool in very close proximity to where Ron stood, and three pairs of nasty, yellowish fangs…

They all screamed in unison.

“Open the door open the door OPEN THE DAMN DOOR ALREADY!!!” Ed yelled frantically, tearing his eyes away from the dark creature as Harry groped for the doorknob.

They all fell backward, then ran—practically _flew_ —back down the corridor. They didn’t see Filch back in the Charms corridor thankfully enough, but they hardly cared. All any of them wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn’t stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

“Where on earth have you all been?” she asked, looking at their flushed, sweaty faces.

“Never mind that—pig snout, pig snout,” panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.

It was a while before anyone said a word. Neville, indeed, honestly looked like he’d never speak again. Ed, on the other hand, looked like the most unfazed one out of the group—no doubt he had seen far worse than a three-headed dog before attending Hogwarts—and rather, he looked more contemplative than traumatized. He rested his head upon the cool palm of his right hand, wrapping his mind around the events of the night and what they may in fact be connected to…

“…What do they think they’re doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?” said Ron finally. “If any dog needs exercise, that one does.”

Hermione had gotten both her breath and her bad temper back again.

“You don’t use your eyes, any of you, do you?” she snapped. “Didn’t you see what it was standing on?”

“The floor?” Harry suggested. “I wasn’t looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads.”

“It was standing on a trapdoor,” Ed spoke, meeting Hermione’s eyes with a serious, ominous expression. “That monster is guarding something in the third floor corridor.”

Hermione nodded, then stood up, glaring at all of them.

“I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed—or worse, _expelled_. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.”

“Please do,” Ed said, rolling his eyes. “We wouldn’t want you to miss out on your much-needed beauty sleep.”

Ron and Harry chuckled at the harsh joke as Hermione huffed irritably and stomped up the stairs to the girl’s dormitories. Ron stared after her, shaking his head.

“You’d think we dragged her along, wouldn’t you?”

The redhead then yawned hugely himself:

“…I’m gonna go on to bed too. Coming with, you guys?”

“I’ll be there in a sec,” Ed said. “Take Neville with you, though. He may need to be sedated after what he saw tonight.”

Harry watched as the two of them trudged up the stairs to go to bed, then looked back at Ed, whose look of deep thought had returned almost immediately.

“…Not to be nosy or anything, but…what are you thinking about?” Harry asked curiously. Ed looked up from his armchair at the black-haired boy:

“I think we’ve found out where the item from vault seven hundred and thirteen is.”

Harry blinked in surprise:

“You remembered the vault number? That was, like, almost a week ago that we saw Hagrid—“

“Photographic memory,” Ed said dismissingly. “That’s not my point, though.”

“Right,” Harry said sheepishly.

“I already had suspicions before tonight that it was hidden in the school. After all, why else would a certain portion of the school be off-limits to all students? I didn’t think it would be so heavily guarded, though, and by the looks of it, the item in question probably has even more traps and what-not guarding it.”

“I wish I knew what exactly that thing is guarding.”

Ed raised an eyebrow:

“You mean you don’t know? Weren’t you there when Hagrid took it from Gringotts?”

“Yeah, but it was wrapped up in grubby brown paper, like I said earlier. I couldn’t see exactly what it was.”

“Yeah, but how big was it? What was it shaped like?”

It was Harry’s turn to raise a skeptical eyebrow.

“Why exactly do you want to know?”

The two wizards locked eyes for a long moment or so, then Ed sighed.

“Just curious,” he muttered finally, getting up from his armchair and marching away and up the stairs to the boy’s dormitories, leaving Harry in the dark.

 

~~*e.s.*~~


	9. Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry gets.......suspicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Chapter Eight: Suspicions~

 

_“There’s no hope left; they know your secret, Edward Elric. You know that no one will let you succeed.”_

_Edward gritted his teeth in fury at the invisible voice that sounded strangely like The Truth echoing in his mind._

_“Shut up, you bastard!”_

_“The stone’s not at Hogwarts; you’ve made a grave mistake following Dumbledore to that idiosyncratic school. You FOOL!”_

_Ed really felt all hope leave him at that statement; his golden eyes widened in agony as he felt his guilt weigh him down, as if he had an automail heart pressing hard within his chest. Al’s face appeared, and then disappeared before him, his last human expression of fear scorching his older brother to the core. Ed couldn’t bear watching his little brother’s torture over and over and over and—_

_“No! ALPHONSE!!”_

“AH!” Ed bolted upright beneath the sheets of his four-poster bed, quickly covering his mouth in sudden anxiety. Did any of the others awaken from his inadvertent shriek of terror? As he peeked around the room, though, everyone else seemed to be sound asleep. Perhaps his rude awakening had not been as rough on anyone else’s ears as his own, or perhaps the scream only existed within the nightmare…

 _Alphonse_.

Ed sighed heavily with drowsiness and unease; there was no way he was getting back to sleep now. So instead, he hopped out of bed and grabbed his wand, a quill, and a couple of sheets of parchment. He sat back upon the bed and lifted his dark wand up to his face.

“ _Lumos_ ,” he whispered, and the wand’s tip illuminated softly. He set it down next to his spot on the bed and contemplated only for a moment before beginning to compose his letter to Alphonse:

_Hey Al,_

_Sorry I didn’t write to you sooner; you won’t believe how fast-paced everything is here. I have so much to tell you about, starting with the first day, I guess. By the way, I ended up in Gryffindor, if you were wondering; they sort people into the different houses_ _by putting a talking hat on their head and letting it decide. It was weird, and it almost put me in Slytherin…that would’ve been bad. I really hate Slytherin people. They’re jerks, all of them! I can see now why Harry and Ron despised that House so much when they first told me about it. Speaking of those two, they’re so far the two closest things I have to friends here; I think Ron likes me a little more than Harry does. Harry seems like he’s always really suspicious about me all the time; gets on my nerves._

_Oh, and you won’t believe the snobby little smart-ass I met! UGH, she literally followed us halfway around the school the other night just to nag. Gave me a freaking headache; more on that later, though._

_The classes are both a lot more interesting than I had anticipated and a lot more difficult as well. I’m taking Astronomy, Herbology, Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic and Charms classes this year, plus the occasional flying lessons. Those aren’t very fun; I had an interesting time asking the teacher what the weight limit of the broomsticks was. You should’ve seen the look on her face—but it’s a valid concern, this automail’s heavy stuff, you know!! Well…I guess she wouldn’t know. I doubt that many of the professors know, actually, and none of the students have found me out either. I am constantly on edge with this secret; I even sleep with my gloves on nowadays, just to make sure none of my roommates catch a glimpse of my hand. It’s all really nerve-wracking, Al. I feel like such a phony and a liar—that really is all I am now, isn’t it? No one knows the truth here; I really have no connection to this school whatsoever._

_Eh, anyway, back to the classes; Herbology and Astronomy are easy enough, but the ones requiring wandwork—Transfiguration and Charms—are giving me some trouble. I figured out that I can’t use my wand as well in my prosthetic hand as in my human hand, which is odd because alchemy, which is SUPPOSED to be magic works just fine with my automail. Huh. Also, according to my Transfiguration teacher, Professor McGonagall, I have developed a mental block to magic because I’ve thought of alchemy as a science for all this time. Which really makes sense, if you think about it? After all, you of all people know just how much of a skeptic I can be!_

_Professor McGonagall also told me something else that makes me wary; she warned me about letting other teachers unknowing of my secret know who and what I really am. This confused me; aren’t the teachers supposed to be on my side? Apparently not; this school is just too weird, Al. And kind of spooky; they have ghosts here!!_

_The Potions teacher seriously pissed me off the first day, though. In fact, I got a detention from him and even got kicked out of the class. It was bad, Al; you see, he’s the Head of Slytherin House; therefore he has favoritism towards his students and treats Gryffindors like crap. He was being completely unfair to Harry all class long, and eventually…well, I boiled over. I admit, bad move on my part, but dammit he pissed me off!! It was worth it; the detention really wasn’t that bad, except that he kept giving me dirty looks, the bastard. This guy is just creepy, though, Al; he has this gleam in his eyes that’s just pure evil. It’s disturbing; makes me think McGonagall’s warning is a necessary one after all. I know for a fact that he does not know of the secret, and at this point I seriously hope he never finds out._

_Ok, now I have to tell you about my least favorite person here; his name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. (and that’s how he introduced himself! What an idiot…) He treats people not in Slytherin like dirt, and he’s got this dumb, foppish attitude about him. I almost got into several fights with him; he made me, Harry and Ron so mad. Anyway, the other day he challenged me to a Wizard’s Duel…whatever that is. I think it’s a kind of battle fought only with wands. He told the three of us to meet him in the trophy room at midnight that night, and somehow our trio ended up traveling with two more people, and then when we got to the trophy room, THE ASSHOLE WASN’T THERE. In his place was the grumpy old caretaker, Mr. Filch, who was on the lookout for students out of bed. So, of course, we ran for our lives halfway across the school and eventually lost him by going inside some random door we found in the Charms corridor. However, that door just happened to lead to another corridor containing a giant, hungry three-headed dog ready to bite our heads off. I swear I’m not lying, Al, this is completely true! THIS SCHOOL IS CRAZY! The thing was disgusting, drooling on us and scaring the life out of this kid named Neville, who was one of the unwanted additions to the group. While in the corridor, however, I noticed that the horrible beast was standing on a trap door—which means it was guarding something. Earlier that week Harry had mentioned that when he went with him to Gringotts, Hagrid extracted a mysterious package from a random vault in the bank. Harry said he didn’t see what it was, but he described the packaging as being small, able to fit in a coat pocket, in fact._

_I know that’s what’s through that trapdoor, that mysterious package. And I plan to get through there and see for myself sometime in the future. But first I need to do more researching; I need to be certain that it’s really the Philosopher’s Stone hidden in the third floor corridor._

_So that’s my hypothesis; I don’t want you to get your hopes up just yet, though, in case I’m wrong. Who knows, Dumbledore may have lied to me and you. Magic may exist, but I’m still not sure it can help us out of our predicament. I’m a little more hopeful now, after seeing it at work for the past two weeks—you wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve seen the professors break the Law of Equivalent Exchange with ease. It’s astounding; everything we thought we knew, proven incorrect right before our eyes…well, my eyes, for right now, at least until you attend the school next year. I hope things will be better for us, better for you this time next year._

_I miss you more than you know, Al. It’s been torture, being away from you. I still have nightmares about that night…and it feels wrong, me being here in this strange, foreign place without you by my side. You’re all I have left, you know, despite my new friends. After all, can you really call someone your ally if they truly know nothing about you?_

_Tell Granny and Winry I said hi and that I’m taking care of myself and my automail—I swear!_

_Missing you a ton, brother,_

_Ed_

Ed folded up the three-page long letter and stuffed it inside an envelope, yawning hugely as he whispered to his wand, “ _Nox_.” After being engulfed in darkness, he slid the letter beneath his pillow, resigning to take it up to the owlery first thing in the morning before going to breakfast…or not. Perhaps his time would be better spent researching in Hogwarts’ huge library. Ed sighed heavily; how much research would it require to be made certain that the stone is in the school? He wanted nothing more than to get Alphonse out of that damned armor, and to restore his own missing limbs. _So I won’t have to lie anymore_. _I’m tired of wearing this mask…_

_But what if it really is a hopeless quest that I’ve embarked on?_

~~*e.s.*~~

 

The following morning was brisk and windy, causing Ed’s ports to ache after only ten minutes outside of the castle. He grimaced as he walked the path towards the owlery, cursing himself for forgetting his fluffy Gryffindor scarf in the dormitory. Though the school’s robes were thick and heavy and his gloves well-protecting, the wind still managed to flit beneath the material and bite harshly upon the tender skin on which the icy metal was attached. He also cursed the temperature, how it would never drop this low in Resembool, how this place was going to be torture in the wintertime ‘cause the castle doesn’t have a damn furnace. Roaring fires could only help so much, after all, especially down in the dark dungeons where the potions classes meet.

Upon arriving in the owlery, Ed immediately saw that he wasn’t alone.

“…Hey, Ed,” Harry greeted awkwardly, the memory of his accusatory conversation with the blonde the night before still ringing in his head. Ed simply nodded at him and made his way straight to his owl, letter at hand. Harry turned back to Hedwig, gently ruffling her feathers as he contemplated an apology, wondering if it was necessary or not. After all, it wasn’t his fault that Ed was such a suspicious character…was it? Was he truly the only person that was suspicious of Ed? It certainly felt like he was…

“…Look, Ed, about last night…I shouldn’t have talked to you that way. You were just asking questions, not interrogating. Sorry.”

Ed looked at Harry with raised eyebrows:

“I didn’t take offense to that, Harry. You have every right to accuse me of interrogating. It’s not like what came out of that vault is any of my business.”

He grinned:

“Apology accepted anyway.”

Harry returned the smile, grateful of the weight being lifted from his chest. He nodded to the letter in Ed’s grasp.

“Writing to your brother?”

“Yeah,” said Ed, a guilty expression upon his face. “I meant to write sooner. Al probably thinks I’ve forgotten about him.”

“I doubt it; he’ll understand that you’ve been busy,” Harry reasoned. Ed nodded in agreement, poking Nova awake with his cold automail hand. The owl jumped in surprise and glowered at her cruel, evil master for interrupting her beauty sleep. She blinked and cocked her head immediately after spotting the letter in his hands, however, excitement and eagerness taking over her anger momentarily.

“That’s right, girl,” Ed said, ruffling her feathers just as Harry had done affectionately to Hedwig not a moment before. “You get to see Al again.”

The owl looked really eager at the sounds of that; she flew up from her perch and willingly offered out her foot for Ed to attach the letter to, and then took off immediately into the morning sun for Resembool. Ed smiled amusedly as he watched his petite little owl fly out of sight, the cold wind not hindering her want to see Alphonse one bit.

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you all later, then,” Ed said, leaving the owlery. Harry looked confused as he followed the alchemist out:

“You’re skipping breakfast again?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go to the library a bit before Charms.”

Harry opened his mouth to ask what he could possibly be researching about for intensely, but then changed his mind at the last minute in an effort to stay on as good of terms as possible with the boy.

“…Ok then.”

They walked through the doors leading to the corridor before the Great Hall just as Harry stopped walking for a moment, placing a hand upon Ed’s cold automail shoulder. He quickly removed it after feeling the shocking temperature, and then quickly mellowed out his facial expression as Ed turned to look at him questionably.

“About the package; you asked last night about what it seemed to be.”

“…Yeah,” Ed said, putting an incredible amount of effort into sounding completely nonchalant.

“Well,” Harry continued, “it was small enough to fit in Hagrid’s coat pocket, and when he picked it up it looked to be about two inches long and kind of…I don’t know, maybe rock-shaped? It’s like I said, I didn’t really get a great look at it, but it really was just a knobby little brown-wrapped package.”

_Rock-shaped?? Fits in a pocket?! Knobby little brown-wrapped package?!! It IS the stone, it HAS to be!!!_

“I see,” Ed said, unable to keep his voice from sounding slightly hoarse. He swallowed, hoping that his expression did not give him away at all, for at that very moment he felt like his face would break apart at the strain he was putting upon it to keep up his façade.

“Yeah,” Harry said, shrugging. “It must be either really valuable or really dangerous, though, to require that kind of protection.”

“Definitely. Probably both. Yeah,” Ed stuttered, mentally kicking himself for looking so suspicious. He closed his eyes for a moment in order to gather his thoughts, then re-opened them. Harry blinked; the blonde bore such a look of dark determination! It was…scary, to see Ed like that…

“…We have to find out what’s through that trapdoor,” Ed said with finality. “Before it gets into someone else’s dangerous hands.”

_Before I lose my chance of getting ahold of it!!_

Harry nodded in firm agreement; he too shared the fear of the mysterious item getting into the hands of someone evil, someone who would abuse its power…

Someone like Snape.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

The next month or so flew by in a massive blur to Edward, with all the homework and researching he was constantly busy with. He made sure to still spend some time with his friends, in order to look the least bit suspicious as possible, but he was beginning to get impatient. His research efforts were virtually useless, for the library lacked a good amount of necessary alchemy notes and journals that Ed knew he could’ve gotten ahold of if he had become a State Alchemist. He felt like he was caught up in a major impasse, stuck with nothing more than a hypothesis to work with, lacking the hard facts he needed.

He and Al had managed to keep in touch, though all the flying was beginning to wear Nova out. Especially with winter coming along hard and strong, and the little owl being to tiny and all, it was hard on her to be constantly traveling from Hogwarts to Resembool and back again. Turned out that Amestris was really, _really_ far away from the school of magic.

“Cheer up, mate,” Ron said the morning of Halloween, when the three of them had awoken to the scrumptious scent of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. He patted the tired blonde on the back as he took another bite into his pumpkin pasty he had brought down with him from breakfast.

“Yeah, what’s the matter?” Harry inquired concernedly. “You hardly ate at breakfast.”

“I’m just tired, really,” Ed lied, which had now become as easy to him as breathing. “And I’m kind of missing Al.”

“Ah,” Harry said, attempting to be sympathetic but finding it hard to do so. After all, he didn’t have any siblings at home to miss. The closest thing he had to a brother was Dudley, and was definitely _not_ missing him.

“He’s been writing, hasn’t he?” Ron said through a mouthful of pastry. Ed nodded, frowning:

“It’s not the same, though; I have never been away from him for this long before.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other; Harry shrugged at Ron, hating the feeling of being at a loss for words. Ron contemplated something for a moment, then turned back to Ed:

“…Look, Ed. Al probably is missing you just as much as you’re missing him. But, at the same time I bet he would rather you ignore that and have a good time here, _especially_ since it’s Halloween. Al wouldn’t want you to be like this, thinking about nothing but him when you could be focusing on your classes or on delicious food. You get what I’m saying?”

Ed looked at him and grinned suddenly:

“Since when are _you_ the expert on empathy, Ron?”

“Yeah, good question!” Harry piped up, laughing. Ron shrugged:

“Hey, I’m the one with the five brothers and one sister, y’know. I know how to deal with sibling issues.”

They laughed some more at that comment, Ed feeling more grateful than ever for his new friends.

Things just got better for them once they walked into their Charms classroom just in time to hear Professor Flitwick announce that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly. They were all separated into pairs; Harry and Ed were partners (to Harry’s great relief, because Neville had been trying to catch his eye). Ron, however, was the unlucky one to be working with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. After all, she hadn’t spoken to any of them since the night they all got stuck in the third floor corridor together.

“Now, don’t forget that nice wrist movement we’ve been practicing!” squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. “The swish and flick, remember, swish and flick!”

“Swish and flick!” Ed mimicked the squeaky midget professor, making Harry chortle at the absurdness.

“You want to try first, Ed?”

“Uh…” Ed was unsure, but nonetheless lifted his wand up in his human hand, mimicking the motion once before taking a deep, hesitant breath.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa.”_

As expected, nothing happened; Ed huffed, puffing his bangs out of his face. Harry attempted next but was equally as unsuccessful as the alchemist.

“Maybe we’re saying the words wrong…?”

“Lemme try again,” Ed said, grasping his wand in his left hand as he recalled what Flitwick had said about how to pronounce the Latin…

“ _Wingardium Leviosa!”_

And with that, the feather obediently floated into the air—much to Ed and Harry’s shock.

“Well done, Mr. Elric, _well done_!” cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. “See here, everyone, Mr. Elric has done it!”

“How’d you do that?” Harry said in awe. This was the first time he’d seen a charm work so well for the blonde. Ed shrugged, grinning:

“I guess it’s just in the way you pronounce the words…?”

Ron, at the next table, wasn’t having such great luck.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa!”_ he shouted, hitting the feather frustratingly with his wand. Hermione rolled her eyes at him:

“Ok, stop— _stop_ ,” Harry and Ed heard her snap. “You’re saying it all _wrong_. It’s Wing- _gar_ -dium Levi- _o_ -sa, not Levi-o- _sa_.”

“ _You_ do it, then, if you’re so clever,” Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her robe, flicked her wand, and said very matter-of-factly, “ _Wingardium Leviosa!”_

And sure enough, their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

“Oh, well done, Miss Granger!” Professor Flitwick praised her exuberantly.

It was Ron’s turn to be in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

“ _It’s Levi-_ o _-sa, not Levi-o-_ sa!” Ron mocked her in an annoying, high-pitched voice as the trio pushed their way into the crowded corridor. “She’s a nightmare, _honestly_! It’s no wonder no one can stand her.”

Someone knocked into Ed as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Ed and Harry caught a glimpse of her face—and were startled to see that she was in tears.

“…I think she heard you,” Ed commented.

“So?” said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. “She must’ve noticed she’s got no friends.”

Hermione didn’t turn up for the next class and wasn’t anywhere to be seen all afternoon. On the way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, the trio overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls’ bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this news, but a moment later they all entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione out of their minds.

“A school of magic _would_ be all into Halloween,” Ed commented as they took their places at the Gryffindor table for the feast. He tilted his head up to the ceiling where a thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

Ed was just helping himself to a baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face.

“TROLL IN THE DUNGEON! TROOOOOLL!!”

He stopped suddenly just before reaching Professor Dumbledore’s chair:

“…Thought you ought to know…” he said breathlessly before collapsing to the floor in a dead faint.

There was an immediate uproar; it took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore’s wand to bring silence.

“Prefects,” he rumbled, “lead your Houses back to their dormitories immediately! Teachers, follow me!”

Percy was in his element.

“Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders…”

“How could a troll get in?” Harry asked Ron as they climbed the stairs.

“Don’t ask me, they’re supposed to be really stupid,” shrugged Ron. “Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke.”

“I thought it seemed ironic that a troll should attack on Halloween of all days,” Ed chortled amusedly. They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Ed suddenly grabbed Harry and Ron’s arms.

“Hermione. She doesn’t know there’s a troll in the school.”

Harry’s eyes widened: “oh no…”

Ron bit his lip.

“Oh…all right,” he snapped. “But Percy’d better not see us.”

Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuff mob going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girl’s bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

“Percy!” hissed Ron, pulling Harry and Ed behind a large stone griffin.

As they peered around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

“What’s he doing?” Harry whispered. “Why isn’t he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?”

“Search me,” said Ron confusedly, shrugging it off. Ed on the other hand was not about to let such suspicious behavior slide; he had a very good idea just where Snape was headed, and it wasn’t towards the troll.

“…I’m gonna go follow him. I’ll meet you guys back in the dormitory.”

“What?!” Harry hissed increadously.

“You’re daft!” said Ron, yanking at Ed’s robe. “You’ll get caught for sure!”

“No I won’t, let me go!” the alchemist demanded. “You guys go get Hermione, I’ll take care of this!”

And before they could protest anymore, Ed slid out of his hiding spot and sprinted down the corridor after Snape, his robe billowing behind him.

Sure enough, once the young wizard had caught up with the skulking teacher, he could see the door leading to the third floor corridor before him. Being sure to keep a safe distance from the Potions master, Edward stood to the side hidden in shadows as Snape entered the corridor. Ed narrowed his eyes as he inched his way closer to the forbidden door.

“What are you doing in there…?” Ed whispered to himself, then jumped slightly when he heard a hungered growl emitting from within the corridor, followed by a scream of pain and shock, courtesy of the Potions master. Ed quickly made his way behind a column in the vast hallway he stood in as Snape barged quickly out of the door—but he wasn’t quick enough. The black-eyed Potions Master glowered at the blonde boy, who gulped but held his ground. Upon first glance Ed thought something about Snape looked off, but now as he got a decent look at the greasy-haired man, he definitely notice how ripped up and bloody his pant leg looked. Snape hesitated, determining whether or not to get Ed right then and there or wait ‘til later to get him. Just then, a loud commotion could be heard down the hall, and with that Snape broke eye contact with Ed and furiously charged away from the corridor leading to his imminent death in obvious frustration, oblivious to Ed’s dark look following him into the damp darkness.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

“Ron! Harry!!”

“Ed! There you are!” Harry said, running up to him.

“Did you see where Snape went?” Ron inquired immediately. Ed nodded, then observed his two friends; they appeared unscathed from what he could see.

“How was the troll?”

“Stupid,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “But we managed to save Hermione and earn Gryffindor five points. Oh, and we got caught, by the way.”

 _“What?_ ”

Harry nodded:

“Yeah, McGonagall, Quirrell and Snape. That’s how we earned the five points, though we wouldn’t have earned them without Hermione lying for us.”

“Yeah, good of her to get us out of trouble like that,” Ron admitted. “Mind you, we _did_ save her.”

“She might not have needed saving if we hadn’t locked the thing in with her by mistake,” Harry reminded him. Ron rolled his eyes:

“Touché.”

Ed shook his head:

“So _that’s_ where Snape went after the third floor corridor.”

“ _What?_ ”

It was Ron and Harry’s turn to be shocked. Ed nodded amusedly:

“Yeah, the dog attacked him and he ran out, his pants all ripped and bloodied up.”

“No wonder he was limping when we saw him, Ron!” Harry said, putting two and two together.

“Yeah, and he saw me following him, too.”

Harry and Ron gaped at him:

“And you’re still _alive_?!” Ron exclaimed. Ed shrugged it off, then pursed his lips:

“For now, at least; I’ve got to be careful around him from now on, ‘cause I know I’ve officially gotten on his bad side…”

They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Pig snout,” they said and entered.

The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, Harry, Ron and Hermione all said “Thanks,” and hurried off to get plates. Ed simply grinned at their awkwardness and continued thinking on about the corridor and Snape’s threat to the stone of power within…

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold—especially for poor Edward. He awoke with a dull ache in his ports each morning, wrinkling his nose as he gazed out the window upon the frost-covered campus. And if he was not properly bundled up, his steel prosthetics became deathly cold, like the icy gray mountains around the school and the crystalized lake.

The Quidditch season had begun, therefore the quartet (for the once-trio had added a new member since the troll incident) did not see too much of Harry around after school except for in the evenings during and after dinner. The first match of the season was to be played on Saturday, and it was to be an interesting one: Gryffindor versus Slytherin.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry and Ron had saved her from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. Even Ed managed to get along with her, and they soon became great studying partners, joining forces to assist their less intelligent friends pass with flying colors.

Sports and schoolwork were not the only things the Gryffindors were worrying with, however; Ed was continuing to spend more and more time in the library, and was rarely seen without his alchemy book he had bought at Flourish and Blotts on him (though he was extremely careful not to reveal the cover to anyone). He became more and more immersed in the Philosopher’s Stone as the days went by, causing not only Harry and Ron but now also Hermione to be slightly curious if not suspicious of Ed’s great interest in researching rather than socializing. For instance, the day before Harry’s first Quidditch match was a busy one; the quartet had double Transmutations classes to attend, along with Harry having a double practice that evening to prepare for the match, obviously.

"Hey Harry," Hermione greeted him as he caught up with her and Ron on their way to Transfiguration class.

"Hey there, Hermione, Ron," Harry greeted them. "Where's Ed?"

"Library, probably," Hermione said matter-of-factly, her eyebrows knitting together with concern. "I certainly hope he isn't late to class. Professor McGonagall will have his hide if he walks in during another one of her lectures."

"I swear, the guy practically lives in the library nowadays!" Ron said, shaking his head. "He's a strange one."

"Ron, that's not very nice!" Hermione exclaimed. Ron replied with a shrug:

"It's true. You know those gloves he wears? The white ones?"

"Yes, what about them?" Hermione asked, still frowning upon Ron's rudeness.

"He never takes them off."

Hermione raised a skeptic eyebrow at him.

"It's true," Harry piped up. "We all share a dormitory together and neither of us has ever seen him take them off. He even sleeps in them. I know 'cause his bed's right next to mine."

"See??" Ron said defensively. "He's obsessed with them, Hermione!"

"Oh, come now," Hermione said, shaking her head. "He must have a good reason behind wearing them all of the time. Maybe they once belonged to an old family member and he wears them to keep them close."

"Or maybe...maybe he's hiding something," Harry pointed out.

"Oh, Harry, that's absurd. What could he _possibly_ have to hide?"

"What couldn't he have to hide, Hermione??" Ron said. "I mean, Ed's very secretive about a lot of things."

"How _so_?"

"I don't know, he just is!"

"Ron, you're being absurd!"

"He's got a good point Hermione," Harry said. "That thing with the gloves is weird."

"You both are just making a big fuss over nothing!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands up into the air exasperatedly as they passed a small stairwell bathed in color due to a large stained-glass window overlooking it. The cold rain from that morning was still dripping down upon the campus, causing the coloration to be rather watery in appearance. Ron's walking suddenly slowed significantly before coming to a complete stop just past the stairwell.

"What's up, Ron?" Harry asked curiously, he and Hermione stopping right next to Ron.

"...I'm so curious now. I wonder if Ed really _is_ hiding something from us."

"Maybe he has a really ugly scar on one of his hands that he's embarrassed about," Harry said, shrugging. Just then, Ron's face erupted into a cheesy smile.

"Yeah," he began. "Or maybe he has, like, an indestructible arm made entirely out of steel or something."

The trio busted up at the ridiculousness of that statement, Harry slapping Ron on the back as he struggled to regain his composure so that they could continue on to class...

Little did they know that deep within the shadows of that little color-splashed stairwell lay a very shocked Ed. He slumped dumbfounded against the wall, unknowingly dropping his book, his ears still burning with Ron's words. _What would they think_ , he thought shakily, _if they found out that Ron was completely right?_ He gulped at the thought, eyes still widened with unease, his human hand gripping tightly upon his wrist of steel as he stared into the saturated stained glass.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Edward all sat by a window, Hermione checking Harry and Ron’s Charms homework for them and Ed reading his book as usual. Harry felt restless for he seriously wanted his copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ back from Snape, who had taken it from him that same afternoon. He needed something to take his mind off his nerves about tomorrow. Why should he be afraid of Snape? Ed wasn’t afraid of the Potion’s Master—he followed the hook-nosed man halfway across the school and even went off on him the very first day of classes! Why should Harry feel so threatened by someone who was threatened daily by a friend of an even shorter stature than himself?? Harry chuckled internally at this thought, knowing that Ed would kill him if he knew what had just been said. Getting up, he told Ron and Hermione he was going to ask Snape if he could have the book back.

“Better you than me,” Ron said, Hermione nodding once in agreement. Ed looked up from his book and grinned sarcastically:

“Good _luck_!”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, guys…” Harry retorted before walking away. Ed watched him leave the common room, wondering just how suspicious the scarred boy really was of him. He re-directed his attention to Hermione though as she asked him and Ron:

“Are you two going home for Christmas holidays?”

Ed shook his head; there was no point in buying another train ticket just to go all the way back to Resembool for, what, three weeks? There really was nothing there left for him anyway…except Al, of course.

“I don’t think so,” Ron said. “My parents have some trip planned, I think. Plus I’d rather stay here with Harry and Ed.”

That’s right, Harry would have no reason to go back to his home either, Ed remembered; the bespectacled boy was also an orphan. That was the one thing they had in common, except Harry had awful caretakers that would rather have nothing to do with his existence. Edward at least had Granny Pinako and Winry around.

“Wonder what Snape was doing in the corridor,” Ron piped up suddenly, his lowered voice spiking Hermione and Ed’s interest up again. “I think he’s after what that thing is guarding. What do you two think?”

“I agree; he seemed way to sneaky on Halloween when I followed him to the corridor,” said Ed.

Hermione, who seemed to believe that all teachers were essentially good and were always looking out for the well-being of the students no matter what, spoke on Snape’s behalf:

“Maybe he just wanted to make sure the dog was still there and doing its job.”

“I don’t think so; you didn’t see the expression on his face when he left the beast,” said Ed. “Plus if he was just doing that, why’d the thing attack him?”

“Perhaps it’s hungry…” Hermione said, but sounded less sure. Ron raised an eyebrow at her:

“I think that’s the point of the creature; to eat anyone trying to get to whatever’s in there.”

“We sure need to find out what _is_ in there,” Hermione said, her brimming curiosity obvious. Ed remained silent as he flipped through his book, purposely not letting his friends in on his hypothesis on what’s in the vault. Ron frowned upon his silence, however:

“What do you think could be in there?”

Hermione also turned to face Ed, who looked up from his book questionably.

“In where?”

“C’mon, Ed, don’t play dumb,” Ron said as he nudged his friend in the arm, though his underlying suspicion upon Ed’s sudden nonchalance was showing slightly. “Surely you must have _some_ idea.”

Hermione looked back and forth from Ron to Ed, then back to Ron. She knew what he was up to, trying to get Edward to confess to something, but what exactly he was trying to weasel out of him she had no clue of. She didn’t see anything suspicious about the blonde boy, except maybe that he occasionally got this scary gleam in his eyes when he was just sitting by the fire and thinking in the evening…

Ed raised an eyebrow at Ron:

“I have no clue. Something of sufficient magical power, obviously, ‘else they wouldn’t bother putting up defenses against thieves.”

“Yes, I agree,” Hermione intruded, forcing Ed and Ron to break eye contact. “It’s probably something rather old, too, y’know.”

Just in time, at that moment Harry sprinted into the common room, plopping huffily onto the couch next to Ron.

“Did you get your book?” Ron asked. “What’s the matter?”

Ed and Hermione’s ears perked up as Harry told the group what he’d seen in a low whisper.

“You know what this means?” he finished breathlessly. “Snape’s after whatever the three-headed dog’s guarding! And I’d bet my broomstick _he_ let that troll in, to make a diversion!”

“I told you so, Hermione!” Ron said. Hermione’s eyes were wide:

“No—he wouldn’t,” she said. “I know he’s not very nice, but he wouldn’t try to steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe.”

“Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something,” snapped Ron.

“I’m with Harry, I definitely wouldn’t put anything past Snape,” Ed countered. Ron raised an eyebrow at the blonde:

“…Just a moment ago you didn’t have an opinion over the matter at all.”

“Did so,” Ed defended himself. “I agreed with you beforehand, dummy!”

Ron thought back, then smiled sheepishly. “Oh yeah.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at the duo, then shook his head frustratingly:

“But what _is_ the thing that Snape’s after? What’s that dog guarding?”

Whilst the quartet continued to talk about the mystery, forgetting entirely about their homework, they were left completely unaware of an unsettling scene unfolding outside of the Gryffindor common room’s vast bay window. Though the school had many magical defenses against human and magical intruders, it was left completely open to anything of a non-human, non-magical sort.  This would explain why there, deep within the rainstorm, lurked two inhuman creatures cloaked in darkness, circumspectly  stalking the perimeter of the castle…

“It’s cold, Lust!” whined the shorter of the duo, falling back upon his hindquarters as he hungrily sucked his pudgy thumb. “I want to get away from this place.”

“Quiet, Gluttony,” The tall, dark woman next to the stubby, obese creature snapped softly, her hooded head tilted up towards the vast castle called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, her elegantly gloved hands resting thoughtfully upon her hips. “We can’t leave until we know for sure that the boy is here; it was a rather nasty surprise when we turned up in Resembool and he was nowhere to be found...”

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

The next morning dawned very bright and cold; the Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match. Everyone, that is, except Ed.

“Is there _anything_ we can do to convince you to go to the match?” Hermione pleaded one last time with the alchemist. Ed shook his head, offering his friends a small smile.

“I’ve got to finish that report we’ve got due to McGonagall tomorrow, along with a bunch of other homework and research I want to get done. Plus I’m not really that into sports; someone come up to the library and fetch me after the game is done, though, alright?”

“Sure, mate. Whatever,” Ron said, waving once to Ed before turning on his heel and heading straight towards breakfast, leaving Harry and Hermione behind.

“Hey,” Harry said once he had caught up with the redhead. “What’s going on between you and Ed? You two get into a fight or something?”

“They were kind of cross with each other last night,” Hermione informed Harry. “While they were talking about the stone. Ron was being a bit rude with his questioning.”

“Oi! Was not, he was asking for it.”

“How so??”

“You saw him! He’s hiding something from us; he knows something about that corridor, Harry, I can tell.”

“Oh, _Ron_ …”

Harry remained silent as they argued, for he completely agreed with Ron; Ed obviously knew something they didn’t, and he was clearly unwilling to share for some dark, personal reason. And about Ed hiding something from the three of them—well, since when was Ed _not_ hiding something from them?

Suddenly, Harry felt terrible, and not just because one of his friends may or may not be betraying him. In an hour’s time he’d be walking onto the field.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

“ _Dammit_ ,” Ed hissed in frustration. “Don’t any of these books say what you _want_ them to say?”

He yawned hugely, stretching his arms out in front of him over his desk filled with numerous notes and books all on the same subject: alchemy. Except none of the books he was pulling out said anything useful about the Philosopher’s Stone, other than a brief generalization about what it is. Nothing about the making of it, its whereabouts, or who discovered its properties—all of the important things Ed really needed to know.

Ed huffed, yawning yet again. The previous night was, once again, a night of sleeplessness for the young Elric, due to the obvious, plus his concern about Ron’s unsettling suspicions. It was one thing to have Harry be keeping a watchful eye over him 24/7, but now Ron, whom Ed was closer to in many ways, including the fact that the redhead was the first friend he made in the wizarding world—possibly his first friend ever, actually. This was bad; how much could he possibly hide from Ron? He sighed; it really wasn’t a matter of what he _could_ hide, but rather what he _needed_ to hide at all costs.

Ed glanced out the large window down the row of books his writing desk was located in; everyone was still out at the Quidditch match, therefore the library was mostly empty except for the librarian, who mostly kept to herself at the checkout desk, which was strategically located far away from where Ed sat.

After one last look around, Ed nodded in approval at his aloneness, then clapped his hands together in preparation for a transmutation. The young alchemist had been utilizing his alone time in the library as practice time for alchemy since the beginning of the school year, treading both carefully and eagerly at the same time. The last thing he wanted to do was get caught by anyone (including the librarian, who was one of the teachers in the school who did NOT know of Ed’s past). He would only ever do a few simple, quiet ones whenever he did, but any level of practicing helped keep his skills fresh, really. But after shifting the floorboards and the stone base beneath them into many different shapes and tools, Ed frowned, his antenna drooping. He wasn’t getting anywhere by just sitting and playing around with alchemy.

With that last thought of forlornness, he restored everything back to normal, then sat back down, lifting his quill up from its resting place in the ink flask…and yet again commenced in writing nothing useful with it.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

“Ed?”

Hermione, Ron and Harry looked at each other, and then Hermione gently shook the sleeping blonde’s shoulder once more.

“Ed? Wake up.”

“Urngh…” Ed sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking around at his mess of books. “Damn, what a mess.” He looked up at Harry:

“How’d you do?”

“Gryffindor won,” Harry said with a smile. “But that’s not all we’ve got to talk about.”

“We’re going to Hagrid’s for tea; want to join us?” Hermione offered. Ed nodded, frowning at his mess of books.

“I’ve just got to put all these up first.”

“Here, we’ll help,” Hermione said, grabbing a small stack of leather-bound books near to where she stood. She read the covers curiously, raising an eyebrow at Ed before walking to the shelves where they belong.

“Alchemy?”

“Yeah,” Ed said as he stuffed all his paper and writing utensils back into his knapsack. “I got bored so I just decided to pull out a couple of interesting sounding books to look through.”

“And your subject for the day was alchemy?” Hermione chuckled. Ron and Harry also chortled at the silly comment.

“Your just like Hermione, Ed, with all these books,” Ron said, flipping through one and shaking his head in disgust. “No wonder you’re so bloody smart…”

Upon arrival at Hagrid’s humble hut, the quartet were immediately greeted with an extra-cheerful, extra-slobbery Fang, followed by a bubbly Hagrid, who beamed at Harry for his great triumph in the game.

“Didn’a see you there, though, Edward,” Hagrid said as he set a large teapot to heat.

“Yeah,” Ed said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I had a lot of homework I wanted to catch up on, y’know.”

“Ah,” Hagrid nodded understandably. “Well, yeh missed a good match. Also, something happened wit’ Harry’s broomstick.”

“What??”

“Yeah,” Ron explained. “It was Snape.”

“Rubbish,” Hagrid said, waving the redhead off.

“No, really! Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, Harry, muttering—he wouldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“Rubbish!” said Hagrid, who hadn’t heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. “Why would Snape do somethin’ like that?”

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ed looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. Ed decided on the truth, for once.

“I found out something about him,” he informed Hagrid. “I saw him try to get past that three-headed dog-thing on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding.”

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

“How do you know about Fluffy?”

“ _Fluffy??_ ”

“Yeah—he’s mine—bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year—I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the—“

“Yes?” the quartet of curious students said in eager unison.

“Now, don’t ask me anymore,” said Hagrid gruffly. “That’s top secret, that is.”

“But Snape’s trying to _steal_ it,” said Harry.

“Rubbish,” said Hagrid yet again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.”

“So why did he just try and kill Harry?” cried Hermione. Ed looked at her with raised eyebrows; the afternoon’s events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.

“I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!”

“I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” said Hagrid hotly. “I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all four of yeh—yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel—“

“Aha!” exclaimed Harry in triumph, but then he stopped short with what he was about to say next when Ed suddenly spat all of the tea in his mouth out across the table in utter shock.

“F-Flamel??”

Everyone was staring at him curiously; _ah shit_ , he thought, mentally slapping himself in the face. _This could end badly_.

“Do you know the name?” Hermione inquired. Ed looked at her, then at Harry, and lastly at Ron, who’s eyes were narrowed slightly. _Think, dammit, THINK!_

“…Flamel? With an ‘L?’” he asked yet again. Harry nodded; Ed pursed his lips as if thinking hard upon something:

“No, never mind, I thought I knew it. Different name that sounded similar. So there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved is there?”

Hagrid looked absolutely furious with himself; “I shouldn't have said that…”

Ron turned to Hermione:

“Have you heard of him?”

Hermione shook her head sadly. Harry looked back at Ed once more to find him staring down at the table, biting his bottom lip thoughtfully. Just then, the blonde stood up.

“Well, thanks for the tea, Hagrid, but I really need to get back to my studying. I slacked off way to much while everyone was at the game.”

“Yer welcome, Edward,” Hagrid said, cheerfully oblivious to just how cagey Edward was acting. Harry, Hermione and Ron watched him walk out of the hut, then made up some excuse to Hagrid to go after Edward as fast as they could.

“Ed!” Ron shouted as the running blonde. “Wait up, what’s the hurry for?”

Ed mentally kicked himself as he slowed to a stop, his red and gold scarf billowing in the cold winter wind, the clouds overheard that laid overcast all day beginning to darken and clump together. Ed winced as he felt a stone-cold sprinkle of rain fall upon his wind-blown cheek, wishing not just to hurry up and get to the library, but really just to get inside the warmth of the castle.

“I was going to see whether the library had any books on Flamel, of course,” Ed said as he turned to face his friends. He didn’t meet any of their eyes, though, and there was obviously something bothering him.

“…Ed? You know who Flamel is, don’t you?” Hermione asked cautiously. “You just didn’t want to say anything in front of Hagrid?”

Ed shook his head, attempting to look innocent:

“No, I really don’t. That’s why I’m going to the library; now, if you’ll excuse me—“

But as he began to leave them, Harry grasped his arm.

“You’re hiding something from us Ed.”

Ed froze, refusing to look at any of them as Harry continued:

“You’ve been avoiding certain things lately, and then acting like you knew nothing about others, when in reality you probably have this entire mystery solved in that big head of yours.”

Ed growled, turning towards Ron:

“Do you think this too?”

“…Yea,” the redhead spoke out, standing next to Harry and crossing his arms. “Yea, I do. What _are_ you hiding, Ed? It can’t be _that_ bad, that you have to hide it from your friends.”

“I’m not hiding anything!” Ed yanked his arm out of Harry’s grasp. “You all are wrong, I’m not keeping any sort of secrets from any of you!”

“You’re a bad liar, Ed,” Harry said, narrowing his eyes. Ed glared at him and Ron ruthlessly, knowing that no matter what else he said to try to defend himself, they would still continue to accuse him.

“… _Bastards_. I don’t need this shit.”

And with that he was off, leaving the trio alone in the frigid rain. Hermione looked exasperatedly at the

boys:

“Great. _Now_ look what you’ve done. We’re not going to get anywhere by treating him like this.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other, wondering if they could’ve handled the situation better than that.

Edward ended up not going straight to the library after all. After the horrible confrontation he had just

endured, he just felt like being alone. Instead, he found himself sitting up atop one of the castle’s many

great walls, seated next to a strangely animated-looking gargoyle, contemplating where to go

from here. He knew he was in trouble, now that Harry, Ron and Hermione knew that he was

lying to them. How does one keep on lying from this point, though, without losing his

allegiances?

On top of that, there was the stone to consider. Yes, of course Edward had heard of Nicolas Flamel, but

what precisely did _he_ have to do with the Philosopher’s Stone? Also, how exactly was Ed, a first-year

Hogwarts student, supposed to get past all the things guarding the stone? He had to get the

stone, he just didn’t know how to go about doing so without using alchemy…

Unless he just said _screw it all!_ and used alchemy despite everything else. After all, who was going to be

there to see him in the third floor corridor?

“…Unless magic is required to get to the stone,” Ed muttered to himself despairingly. He sighed shakily,

the cold starting to really get to his ports, and collapsed his damp head into his lap. The alchemist knew

he was at an impasse, but there really seemed like no way out of this mess…

A cold tap on the shoulder awakened Ed from him gloom; when he looked up he saw that it was his

dampened  little Nova, flying next to him, her talons bearing a letter with the word “Brother”

written on the front of the envelope in Al’s neat scrawl. Ed blinked, then smiled gratefully as he took the

letter from Nova:

“Perfect timing as always, Al.”

 

~~*e.s.*~~


	10. Facing Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Christmas and feels here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Chapter Nine: Facing Desire~

 

_Hi brother,_

_I’m glad your classes are going better, now that you said you’ve pretty much gotten the hang of wandwork. I wonder if I’ll have as much trouble as you did at the beginning of the year, too next year when I go to that school. I seriously can’t wait for that; it gets pretty boring sometimes here in Resembool without you. It’s getting cold there, you said? That could be a bad thing for you, brother; you’re still recovering from surgery, after all. Winry said that you better not be abusing her precious automail out in the cold rain and snow or else she’ll never forgive you…I’d listen to her if I were you. You know how scary she can be, especially when armed with a giant wrench._

_Have you found out anything else about the mysterious object hidden at the school? Do you still think it could be the Philosopher’s Stone? I know you told me not to get my hopes up, but I can’t help it; I want my body back, brother, and I know you want your arm and leg back, too. That automail seems like it’s really hard on the body. I’ve been helping Granny and Winry out at the shop and they’ve had another customer—an older man who was in the war—come in to be fitted for automail. You should’ve heard his screams, Ed, they were terrifying. I think he screamed louder than you did when you had the surgery done, and that’s saying something! I can’t even imagine how awful that is, going through that. And then Granny constantly talks about the complications that could occur during recovery…I don’t think she likes you being so far away while still trying to rehabilitate. But there’s really nothing she can do about it now, and knowing how strong you are, brother, I don’t think she has anything to worry about._

_You remember Colonel Mustang, Ed? The man who came and talked to you right after the accident about having you work for the military as a State Alchemist? Well, he came back, looking for you, and needless to say he wasn’t happy when we told him you had gone off to school out of the country. We were careful not to say ‘magic school,’ obviously; based on what we know about him, I’d easily assume that the Colonel might be a skeptic about magic, just like you are. Or were. You’re not still skeptical, are you??_

The rest of the letter continued on with talking about life back in Resembool, updating Ed on all he’s been missing (which honestly, compared to all that’s been happening at Hogwarts, is not much). In order to keep Al’s letter from bleeding in the rain, Ed had quickly stepped inside the castle, stowing Nova beneath his cloak to hide her presence in the school, the rain progressively falling faster and faster down the cross-hatched window panes dimly illuminating the vast hallway in which he stood. When he finished reading his brother’s words, he stared up into the dampened glass, thinking deeply about how to make everything work out for the better…

He sighed, knowing that the only way he was going to get any closer to the Stone was to make amends with his friends, if at all possible at this point.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Christmas was coming.

One morning around mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the mail was becoming more and more delayed every day. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. Nova, being the stubborn fowl she was, managed to escape Hagrid’s care for quite a bit longer than the larger, older owls. But soon enough Nova was also beyond incapacitated, droplets of ice frozen upon her little beak, he feathers quaking under her shivering.

“Sorry, pretty, but yer no’ doin’ any flying anytime soon. Not if I can help it,” Hagrid said as he ruffled her up in a fluffy white towel, attempting to keep her from getting sick.

“She’ll be ok, right?” Ed asked concernedly, patting her chilly head. “I knew I shouldn’t have sent her out that last time, but I could tell she really wanted to see Al, too.”

“Yeh mean you wanted to talk to him again,” Hagrid said knowingly. Ed huffed; the gamekeeper knew him so well. “Don’ yeh worry, Ed, she’s alright. I’m not gonna let her go out in that cold no more but she don’ have frostbite or anything of the sort. Go back to class, now, off wit’ you.”

Edward obeyed, of course, though reluctantly. Christmas break was so close by that nobody cared about classes anymore. No one could wait for the holidays to start.

“I do feel sorry,” Ed heard Draco Malfoy say loud and clear over the other voices in the hallway towards the dungeons, “for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they’re not wanted at home.”

He was looking at Harry as he spoke, clearly directing his snarky comment towards the orphan. Ed rolled his eyes, thinking to himself, _I don’t care where I am for the break, as long as you’re not there, dumbass!_

Ed knew it was true that Harry wasn’t going back to his Aunt and Uncle’s for Christmas, after overhearing that Ron and his family will be staying at Hogwarts, too. Ed himself didn’t really care to take the time to leave the school, no matter how much he missed Alphonse. He made a mental note to make amends with his friends before Christmas, though—not that he cared too much about the holiday.

When he left the dungeons after a particularly chilly Potions class, he found himself standing behind Harry and Ron, whose paths were blocked by a large fir tree. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it, obviously. Who else had the strength to carry such a huge tree?

“’Ello Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ed,” Hagrid greeted them, his voice strained under the weight of the fir. Harry, Hermione and Ron, who were unaware of Ed’s presence behind them, glanced backwards but did not greet the alchemist.

“Hi, Hagrid, want any help?” Ed piped up, walking past Harry and Ron and sticking his head through the branches.

“Nah, I’m all right, thanks, Ed.”

“Would you mind moving out of the way?” came Malfoy’s cold, annoying-ass drawl from behind them all. “Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose—that hut of Hagrid’s must seem like a palace compared to what your family’s used to.”

Ed’s eyes widened slightly as Ron dived at Malfoy—just as Snape came up the stairs.

“WEASLEY!”

Ron let go of Malfoy’s robes.

“Ah, hell.”

“He was provoked, Professor Snape,” said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. “Malfoy was insultin’ his family.”

“Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid,” said Snape silkily. “Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn’t more. Move along, Potter, Elric.”

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere as they smirked and shoved Edward roughly. The short blonde also made a move to beat Malfoy, but Hagrid grabbed the back of his robes, tugging him back to his side.

“Don’ you start, now,” Hagrid warned, looking back up the stairs for any sign of Snape.

“I’ll get him,” said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy’s back, “one of these days, I’ll get him—“

“I hate them both,” said Harry, “Malfoy and Snape.”

“Come on, cheer up, it’s nearly Christmas,” said Hagrid. “Tell yeh what, come with me an’ see the Great Hall, looks a treat.”

So the four of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

“Ah Hagrid, the last tree—put it in the far corner, would you?”

“Oh, Professor,” Hermione spoke to Flitwick, who was producing delicate-looking glass ornaments out of the tip of his wand, “it looks beautiful!”

“Why, thank you, Miss Granger!” Flitwick squeaked, bouncing happily at the young witch’s praise.

The hall truly did look spectacular, even Ed had to admit that much to himself. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicle, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

“How many days you got left until yer holidays?” Hagrid asked.

“Just one,” said Hermione. “And that reminds me—Harry, Ron…” she paused, then spoke up, “and Ed?”

Ed looked up at the sound of his name, then nodded and approached Hermione.

“What’s up?”

“We’ve got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick.

“The library?” Hagrid said. “Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren’t yeh?”

“What for?” inquired Ed.

“Oh, we’re not working,” Harry told Hagrid and Ed brightly. “Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we’ve been trying to find out who he is.”

“You _what_?” Hagrid looked absolutely flabbergasted. “Listen here—I’ve told yeh—drop it. It’s nothin’ to you what that dog’s guardin’.”

“We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that’s all,” said Hermione innocently.

“Unless you’d like to tell us and save us the trouble?” Harry added. “We must’ve been through hundreds of books already and we can’t find him anywhere—just give us a hint—I know I’ve read his name somewhere.”

Ed knew this to be true; in all honesty, they’ve started going up to the library just about as often as he did, though they weren’t researching the same thing. Ed grinned to himself; even though he was alone in his researching, he was a very large step ahead of the others in the quest for the truth.

“I’m sayin’ nothin’,” said Hagrid flatly.

“Just have to find out ourselves, then,” said Ron with a shrug, and with that they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library. Ed hesitated for a split second, then made to follow them. Just as he caught up with the trio, however, he was roughly shoved by Malfoy— _again_.

“Elric,” Malfoy sneered. “I must say I was surprised it wasn’t _you_ snapped back there.”

Ed brushed at his sleeve, as if contact with Malfoy made it dusty.

“The hell is that supposed to mean,” Ed muttered, feeling absolutely exasperated with the ass.

“Y’know,” Malfoy retorted. “You’re the one whose temper is shorter than his height—and _that’s_ saying something--!”

Edward finally lost it; faster than either Crabbe or Goyle could blink, Ed’s automail fist had collided with Malfoy’s ugly face. A nasty crack resounded throughout the Great Hall, quickly catching the attention of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and just about every decorating teacher present. But Edward didn’t care. He’d had enough of this Malfoy bastard; just as he clapped his hands together as if to perform a transmutation, however--

“EDWARD ELRIC!”

Ed gulped, quickly stashing his unclasped clap behind his back as he uneasily turned to face a furious Professor McGonagall. _That was waaay too close,_ he thought, mentally kicking himself for being so stupid, so easily provoked. Professor Flitwick was quickly at the scene as well, squeaking slightly at the sight of Malfoy’s horribly bloodied face.

“Ok, come on now, let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey straight away!” the short Charms teacher said, helping the miserable-looking blonde up from the floor and leading him to the Hospital Wing. Crabbe and Goyle made to follow, then stopped and shrugged at each other. After one last glance at Edward, they ditched their friend and headed instead in the opposite direction to the Slytherin common room. Ed shook his head in disgust at the sight of such betrayal, but was quickly yanked back to his present predicament at the sound of McGonagall’s voice:

“How _dare_ you, Elric! What were you _thinking_??”

“He deserved it?” Ed spoke feebly under his unimpressed teacher’s malevolent glower.

“In my office. NOW.”

Ed sighed in resignation, glancing back to see if Harry, Ron and Hermione were still watching from their place upon the staircase. To both the alchemist’s relief and dismay, they spared him the embarrassment of their watchful eyes and trudged on their way, leaving Ed in a very similar fashion as Crabbe and Goyle left Malfoy.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

It felt like a prisoner interrogation, being seated in front of McGonagall’s desk, the very same one that she had so effortlessly transfigured the first day of class. Ed sat uncomfortably before his Head of House, wanting her to hurry up with the lecture, which after nearly a full minute of silent glaring would be a piece of cake to endure.

“…What has gotten into you as of late, Mr. Elric?” the headmistress finally spoke. “You do not pick fights like this usually. What’s going on? Did you, Weasley and Potter get into an argument or something?”

 _You don’t know the half of it,_ Edward thought sourly, though he found himself shaking his head rather than admitting that his only friends did not trust him.

“Then what is the matter?”

Ed thought about this for a moment. True, his mood had been continuously fouling out ever since the big stink that occurred between him, Ron, Harry and Hermione. But especially today his demeanor has become increasingly gloomy—especially after hearing that Nova was not going to be able to bring him letters from Alphonse during the break.

Ed sighed:

“I don’t know, Professor.”

McGonagall stared at him for a moment longer, then also sighed heavily. She then reached within the deep recesses of her giant desk and pulled out a detention slip. Edward watched her sign the slip for that evening, given the fact that this was the last day of classes before break, then signed it and handed it to him.

“You are very lucky that you were caught by me and not by another teacher, and you are also lucky I caught you before you did something you’d truly regret.”

Ed gulped; so she _did_ see him prepare to transmute…

“Even so, I’m afraid that the seriousness of your infraction will have to be reported to Professor Dumbledore.”

Ed nodded in understanding; he knew as well as everyone else that fighting was a huge no-no at Hogwarts, and that there was a chance of expulsion for anyone who broke that rule. He wasn’t worried about being expelled, however; Dumbledore pushed so hard for him to go to Hogwarts in the first place, why would he just outright kick him out for one broken nose/cheekbone/jaw?

“Thirty points will unfortunately be taken from Gryffindor—yes from my own house,” she reiterated at Ed’s appalled expression.

“You will report here tonight right after dinner for your two-hour detention,” she continued, her voice rising with increasing sternness. “If you fail to attend, you will be facing dire consequences. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he spoke automatically. McGonagall nodded curtly, and then dismissed him from her office with a wave of her hand, her disappointment in one of her own Gryffindors obvious in her frown. Ed paused for a moment before leaving her, wondering about whether  or not to say one last thing that was on his mind to the Transfiguration teacher…then decided against it, standing from his seat and exiting the room’s forlorn silence with a single slam of the door.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Harry and Ron had saved Ed a seat next to them at the dinner table that night as a token of apology. They had both decided, what with the three of them being stuck in the giant castle during Christmas holidays, that it’d be best to try and patch things up with their friend. That and, truth be told, it was kind of strange without him around, like a certain piece of their friendship puzzle was missing. Hermione was the last of the quartet to arrive at dinner, however, not Ed.

“Where were you?” Ron asked as she huffily sat down. Hermione shrugged:

“I left something in the library and I wanted to run up and snatch it before dinner. Ran into Professor Sprout along the way, though, and we ended up getting into a big conversation about—“

“Some fabulous grade you’ve made on one of her assignments, no doubt,” Ron interrupted. Harry grinned as Hermione rolled her eyes, the words obviously having been pulled out of her mouth.

“So how much trouble did you get into for slugging Malfoy, Ed?” Ron asked, changing the subject before Hermione chunked a butter knife at him. Ed looked up at the red head.

“…I have a two hour detention with her after dinner tonight, and she had to report about the fight to Dumbledore.”

“That wasn’t a fight,” Harry commented amusedly, “that was a beating. And I love how neither Crabbe nor Goyle even bothered lifting a finger to help the jerk.”

“Where is he anyway?” Ed inquired. Hermione swallowed her casserole before answering him in a clearly disapproving tone:

“Still in the Hospital Wing, doubtless. You did a lot of damage, you know.”

“Yeah, it was great,” Harry said, grinning. “You did what Ron and I have wanted to do since we met him.”

“It was still not a very smart thing to do,” Hermione said indignantly. “He could be expelled, Harry!”

“But he won’t be,” Ron said, his cheeks stuffed with baked ham. “Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t do that right before Christmas.”

Hermione seemed appalled at everyone’s reaction to the entire ordeal. “Does no one else see fighting as a negative thing? You could’ve really hurt him, Ed.”

“Yeah…maybe I was a bit too rough,” Ed said, uncomfortably grasping his automail wrist underneath the table. “What can I say; I don’t know my own strength.”

But he did, and he _was_ going to do worse. If he had gotten the chance to fully transmute…

“Oh well, what’s done is done, and it still was entertaining if wrong,” Ron said, waving off the entire conversation.

“So when do you leave for your skiing trip, Hermione?” Harry inquired. Hermione piped up:

“Tomorrow evening.”

She eyed the three boys carefully; “You will keep looking for Flamel while I’m away, won’t you? And send me an owl if you find anything.”

“Will do,” Harry said. Ed tapped on the table:

“Good luck finding an owl that can fly through the snow, though.”

“And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is,” said Ron. “It’d be safe to ask them.”

“Very safe, as they’re both dentists,” said Hermione.

After a very short dessert of custard and cake, Edward bid his friends goodbye as he trudge down the corridors towards his detention with McGonagall. At this point, even the corridors were more festive-looking than usual, the figures in the paintings hanging up stockings over stoves and tossing strings of popcorn about their Christmas trees. Ed scowled at the sight of a stalk of mistletoe hanging over the doorway into the Transfiguration corridor.

McGonagall was already seated at her desk working on grading papers when Edward knocked. She peered up over her glasses:

“Enter, Mr. Elric.”

As soon as the alchemist was seated in front of the desk, McGonagall began to brief him on what exactly he’d be doing during his detention. She stood from her desk and examined the four walls of her classroom as she spoke:

“You’ll be doing something rather mindless, tonight: writing lines. I wish for you to write the sentence ‘I must not fight at Hogwarts’ two hundred and fifty times across the board, or until your two hours are up. Whichever comes first.”

“Uhm, Professor?” Ed spoke out. “ _What_ board?”

McGonagall did not answer, but instead waved her wand above her head in a circular motion, bewitching the walls to bleed a dark black color from the ceiling down to the molding, making them into makeshift chalkboards for Edward’s lines. After handing him a small box of white chalk, McGonagall simply sat back down at her desk and continued to diligently grade papers.

An hour and a half passed by quickly, three-and-a-half out of the four walls now covered in repeated sentences written by Edward. He had not uttered a word the entire time, which kind of disturbed the headmistress, so to speak, for Edward was not usually such a quiet boy. In fact, as he worked without any sort of emphasis to his writing, the short alchemist seemed more sullen and disheartened than anything.

“…What has gotten into you as of late, Mr. Elric?” McGonagall inquired, finally breaking the silence. “You aren’t normally like this.”

Ed paused for a second, then kept on writing as he asked:

“Like what?”

“Gloomy. Generally uninterested. Easily provoked, more so than usual. Has something happened, perhaps?”

Ed stopped writing altogether and sighed heavily; McGonagall’s cat-like senses were rather unnervingly too precise to brush off. He spoke, not quite meeting her eyes:

“It’s all of this Christmas stuff around the school; it’s bringing me down.”

“Bringing you _down_?” said McGonagall. Edward turned to look at her.

“…My brother and I haven’t celebrated Christmas since before mom died, you see. We—well, I always thought that it would be wrong to be so happy without her. That’s why it’s bothering me that I get to be around such a festive environment without him; he’d love celebrating Christmas—heck, celebrating _anything_ again. Al misses that, and…I miss him, Professor.”

Professor McGonagall blinked, not expecting such an answer from a student. After a moment’s pause she nodded understandingly.

“So you took out your sadness and frustration of being separated from your younger brother out on your anger with Malfoy.”

Ed shrugged, knowing he probably would’ve slugged the boy regardless, but nonetheless he replied:

“Yeah, I guess that’s it.”

“Ok…ok, Mr. Elric,” McGonagall said, taking pity upon the miserable boy as she glanced up at the clock upon the wall opposite of her desk. “You are dismissed. Try to cheer up and enjoy yourself with Harry and Ron.”

Ed looked surprised at the stern teacher’s gruff dismissal but did not look too deep into the gift. He made haste in shoving the pieces of chalk back into its little box and nearly forgot to grab his backpack as he soared out the door, his writing hand throbbing after all of those lines. Professor McGonagall flicked her wand with ease, commanding the walls to return to their original state, deeply pondering her short conversation with the alchemist…

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

“I don’t understand, mate,” Ron said as he pondered his next move in the game of wizard chess he was playing with Harry. “How can you not like _Christmas_?”

“I just don’t really believe in it anymore,” Ed replied, observing as Harry attempted to pursue a counter-attack to Ron’s previous capture of one of is rooks. Harry coaxed his knight forward (only after being repeatedly chewed out by the piece for moving him incorrectly earlier in the game), then turned to Ed:

“You don’t have to believe in it to celebrate it, y’know.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ed said, shrugging off the entire subject matter. Ron tapped upon his chin, and then sent his king forward, grinning from ear to ear: “Checkmate!”

“Darn. I knew I had lost after you got my last bishop,” Harry replied, also grinning despite his loss. Ron then turned to the bored-looking Ed.

“Your turn; know how to play?”

“It’s just like regular chess, right?” Ed inquired as he took Harry’s place in front of the board. “Except that the pieces talk and move on their own…”

“Right!” Ron cracked his knuckles eagerly, as if preparing for a delightfully gruesome battle. “Good luck; white goes first.”

Ed never did deem himself to be a particularly skillful chess player, but he did manage to stay in the game quite a bit longer than Harry did before finally being defeated by the unstoppable Ron Weasley. After that game Ed took on Harry, who proved to be a better match for his level of skill; he managed to beat him, despite Seamus Finnigan’s stubborn chess pieces that were constantly picking fights with their Commander-In-Chief.

None of the trio had spent much time thinking about Nicolas Flamel, not even Edward, who was enjoying plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled too much to remember that he was supposed to be a gloomy mess. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room remained far emptier than usual, so they were able to get good, fluffy armchairs by the fire with ease. On Christmas Eve all three of them went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, though neither Harry nor Ed were expecting any presents at all.

In the middle of the night, however, Ed found himself staring out the window at the swiftly falling snow, the ability to go back to sleep failing him desperately. Guilt awoke him from his foggy slumber. _This is so wrong,_ he kept thinking, _me being here, celebrating Christmas tomorrow without my little brother._ He sighed, crawling out of bed in search of his alchemy book, thinking he might as well get some reading done whilst suffering from insomnia.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

“Harry! Ed! Wake up, it’s Christmas!!”

“Ughh,” Ed groaned, his book still lying open upon his chest. He sat up as Harry ran out to the balcony overlooking the common room, then begrudgingly joined his friend. There they saw Ron standing next to the Gryffindor’s Christmas tree, wearing a rather itchy-looking sweater.

“Happy Christmas, guys,” the redhead greeted with a smile.

“Happy Christmas, Ron,” Harry replied. Ed rubbed his eyes, yawning hugely due to sleep deprivation.

“What are you wearing?” the blonde asked Ron, who looked down at his sweater.

“Oh, mum made it for me, and it looks like she’s made you and Harry one, too!”

“I’ve got presents?” Harry and Ed asked in unison, Ed suddenly perking up at the thought. Ron rolled his eyes:

“Well _duh_. Now get down here!”

They didn’t need to be told twice after finding out they had gifts to unwrap; the two excited boys raced down the stairs in record time and plopped down in front of the tree, gathering up all of the packages with their names on it. Ed picked up the top parcel on his pile; the large, cube-shaped box was signed from Al, Winry and Granny Pinako. _Hope you have a great break; we miss you!_ He unwrapped it to reveal a tin of cookies made by Granny, a couple of books and a letter from Alphonse, and a small, separately-wrapped parcel from Winry with a note taped upon it that read: _don’t open this in front of your roommates, its polishing stuff for your automail!_

Ed laughed; leave it to Winry to buy a gift for his prosthetics rather than Ed himself.

His second present was a small package wrapped in thick brown paper from Hagrid, and upon opening it Ed found himself holding a small, beautiful, hand-whittled statuette of Nova. The alchemist also found a small note inside reporting to him about Nova’s well-being, saying that she recovered quickly and is back in the owlery now with all the other student’s owls.

“ _Weird!_ ” he heard Ron exclaim and turned to see what amazed him so. The freckled boy pointed to a strange-looking coin in Harry’s hand. “What a shape! This is _money_?”

“Money?” Ed also commented. “It doesn’t look like much.”

“Yeah, it’s not,” said Harry, laughing at Ron’s expression. “You can keep it, if you want.”

Ron looked so incredibly pleased at the kind Christmas gesture. Ed and Harry both turned back to their dwindling piles of presents and noticed that they each had a similarly-shaped package.

“I think I know who those are from,” said Ron, turning a bit pink as he nodded toward the present Ed and Harry were examining. “My mom. I told her that neither of you expected many presents and—oh no,” he groaned. “She’s made you Weasley sweaters.”

Ed had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in golden yellow and a large box of homemade candy and fudge.

“Every year she makes us a sweater,” said Ron, unwrapping his own, “and mine’s _always_ maroon.”

“That’s really nice of her,” said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty. Ed happily pulled his gold sweater on over his head, grateful for the warmth it brought him from knowing somebody kindly took the time to knit it for him.

His present from Hermione contained a large box of sugar quills from Honeydukes in London. He picked one of the pieces of candy up curiously, once again proclaiming every piece of the wizarding world to be utterly clichéd. _Ah well, good candy_ , he mentally shrugged, popping another sugar quill into his mouth as he watched Harry shake his last silver-wrapped parcel curiously. He took out the card:

“’Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.’”

Harry frowned. What was ‘use it well’ supposed to mean?

“Open it,” Ed urged curiously from his perch upon the arm of the couch Ron was lounging upon, looking curiously at the redhead’s box of candy from Hermione. “’Every Flavor Beans?’”

“Never had them before?” Ron said, offering Ed some. “Just warning you, though, when they say every flavor, they mean _every flavor_.”

Ed was more hesitant with his choice after Ron’s warning; the first bean he ate was a normal jelly bean flavor, strawberry, but his second piece made him wrinkle his nose. “Mashed potatoes,” he spat, causing Ron to chuckle. Ed stuck his tongue out at the young Weasley, then turned back to Harry.

“Well, hurry up and open it!”

Harry obeyed and revealed the contents of the package to be something fluid and silvery gray. It slithered to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds at Harry’s feet. Ron gasped.

“I’ve heard of those,” he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans. “If that’s what I think it is—they’re really rare, and _really_ valuable.”

“What is it?” said Harry as he picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

“It’s an invisibility cloak,” said Ron, a look of awe on his face. Ed raised an eyebrow at him:

“Yeah, _right_.”

“I’m sure it is—try it on, Harry!”

Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and Ron and Ed gasped.

“It _is_!” Ed said with disbelief.

“Look down!” commanded Ron.

Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He tossed the coat off and looked back at the note that came with it.

“There’s no name.”

Ed and Ron looked at each other and shrugged: “It’s still really neat that you’ve got one,” Ron replied, going back to his candy. Just then the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in, both bearing blue Weasley sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.

“Happy Christmas, all!”

“Hey, look—Harry and Ed have got Weasley sweaters, too!”

“Theirs are better than ours, though,” said Fred, critically observing the gold and green sweaters upon the boys. “She obviously makes more of an effort if you’re not family.”

“What’s all this noise?” another voice boomed from behind the twins; Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred immediately seized.

“P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, we’re all wearing ours.”

“Yeah,” George piped up. “Even Harry and Ed got one.”

“I—don’t—want—“ said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.

“And you’re not sitting with the prefects today, either,” said George. “Christmas is a time for family.”

Needless to say Harry, Ron and Ed were practically rolling upon the carpet with laughter as the twins frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.

The Christmas dinner served at Hogwarts that evening was the most bombastic meal Ed had ever consumed. There were a hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas, and much more. There were huge stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table, and they proved to be the most awesome things upon the table. Ed obtained an interesting-looking tricorn hat, a miniature collapsible cauldron that sparked whenever it popped back up, his own crystal wizard chess set and a drawstring bag full of tiny live, slithering snakes. Ed was very pleased at the thought of using the snakes in numerous future pranks.

That afternoon all of the Weasleys plus Harry and Ed had a furious snowball fight on the grounds. It was Ron, Ed and Harry against the twins and Percy. The twins were constantly cheating by bewitching snowballs to follow the trio around everywhere they ran, so Ed took advantage of his alchemic abilities and doubled the size and strength of their fort when Harry and Ron weren’t looking. As soon as they turned around though, Ed made sure he had his wand in his grasp to make it look like a spell instead of a transmutation.

“Where’d you learn to do _that_?” Ron asked in awe. Ed grinned:

“Hermione,” he convincingly lied. “Who else?”    

Afterwards they eagerly re-entered the common room cold, wet and gasping for breath. They ate a meal of turkey sandwiches and crumpets as they crowded around the fire. Harry and Ed took this chance to break in their new chess sets, a game that was obviously Edward’s from the get-go due to Percy’s assertive attempts at helping out Harry. Ron was easily the first one asleep that night, what with all of the turkey and sweets he’d eaten throughout the day and the fact that he was the only one in the trio who had nothing mysterious to bother him. Harry and Ed were both up much longer than the redhead, Ed flipping through the books he got as presents and Harry messing around with his invisibility cloak.

“I want to use this so badly,” Harry said, causing Ed to peer up from behind his book. Harry looked over at him, narrowing his eyes in thought.

“What are you planning?” Ed asked, recognizing the expression on his friend’s face as one of mischief.

“This is my way of getting into the Restricted Section of the library, my way of finding out who Nicolas Flamel is.”

Suddenly Harry felt wide awake; practically the whole of Hogwarts was open to him.

“…Ok, I’m going,” Harry decided. “You coming with, Ed?”

Ed was about to answer, but instead yawned.

“No thanks; I didn’t sleep very well last night. I need to catch up on my sleep.”

“Ok.” Harry looked over at Ron, who grunted in his sleep, one of his legs hanging off the bed. “Should I wake Ron?”

“Nah, let him sleep off all that food he ate!” Ed laughed, yawning again. “You better find something good out, and tell us everything in the morning.”

“Roger that,” Harry said as he slipped the cloak on over his head a silently walked out of the dormitories, leaving Ed to his books on the very thing Harry was unknowingly looking for: alchemy.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Ed was wrong about Ron.

“You could’ve woken me up,” the redhead said crossly the following morning at breakfast. Harry shot Ed a glare over his goblet of pumpkin juice, to which the blonde simply rolled his eyes.

“You both can come tonight, I’m going back, and I want to show you both the mirror.”

“I’d like to see your parents,” Ed said eagerly, to which Ron nodded.

“And I want to see your families; your brother, Alphonse, Ed, and all the Weasleys. You’ll be able to show me your brothers and everyone, Ron.”

“Eh, you can see them any old time,” Ron said dismissingly. “Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people.”

“Yeah,” Ed said, perking up slightly at the idea. “Maybe I’ll be able to see my mom.”

“I’d like to see your mom,” said Ron before turning back to Harry. “Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren’t you eating anything?”

“Ah-CHOOO!”

Harry and Ron stared at Ed as he furiously wiped his nose after his uber-sneeze, his cheeks pinking slightly at their expressions.

“Gesunheidt,” Ron muttered.

“…Sorry,” the alchemist sniffed. “I guess that snowball fight finally caught up with me.”

“Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey,” Harry suggested. “You could be getting sick.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Besides, I can’t get sick; we’ve got a weird mirror to go see tonight.”

~~*e.s.*~~

 

What Harry feared the most was that he might not be able to find the mirror room again, and with Ron and Edward also beneath the cloak, they had to walk much more slowly. They tried retracing Harry’s route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.

“God, it’s so d-damn cold!” Ed hissed annoyedly, shivering between Harry and Ron.

“I’m freezing, too,” said Ron. “Let’s just forget it and go back.”

“No!” Harry hissed. “I know it’s here somewhere…”

Ron and Ed looked at each other (which was quite a feat in such cramped quarters) and sighed. There was no use convincing Harry against something he had his heart set on. They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were cold and Ed’s teeth starting chattering relentlessly, Harry finally spotted the suit of armor that signaled the entrance to the room in question.

“It’s here—just here—yes!”

They pushed the door open; Harry dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were, just as they stood the night before. Harry’s mother and father beamed at the sight of him.

“See?” Harry whispered, as if afraid that if he spoke too loudly the reflection would dissipate.

“I can’t see anything, Harry,” Ed commented, Ron nodding in agreement.

“Look! Look at them all…there are loads of them…”

“I can only see you,” Ron said. Harry frowned slightly:

“Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am.”

Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn’t see his family anymore, just Ron in his paisley pajamas.

“So what exactly is this mirror _supposed_ to show?” Ed inquired of Harry, who shrugged unknowingly.

Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image.

“Look at me!” he exclaimed.

“Can you see all your family standing around you?” Harry asked eagerly.

“No—I’m alone—but I’m different—I look older…and I’m _head boy_!”

“ _What_?” Harry and Ed said in confused unison.

“I am!” Ron continued excitedly. “I’m wearing a badge like Bill used to—and I’m holding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup—I’m Quidditch captain, too!”

Ron tore his eyes from this splendid sight to look happily at his friends.

“Do you think this mirror shows the future?”

Harry shook his head sullenly:

“How can it? All my family are dead.”

“…Ok, move Ron,” Ed commanded. “My turn to see this weird mirror.”

When Edward Elric stepped in front of the mysterious mirror, however, he found his reaction to be quite different from his redheaded companion’s. His breath caught in his throat upon seeing the reflection; he bore an outfit different from his usual long black pants and read hooded coat, but it was not his clothing which startled him so, for in his reflection in the mirror, Edward had _a human arm and leg_. Mouth agape, the young blonde reached out with longing at the glorious image before him. Reality struck ice-cold as his steel fingertips rapped upon the glass, and Ed sighed, not taking his eyes off of the mirror’s tempting image.

“Ed?” Ron asked, concern for his friend’s uneasy behavior lacing his voice. Ed seemed not to hear, though, as he suddenly took a shaking step back from the mirror as he took in a second figure approaching him from behind his reflection in the glass.

“…Alphonse,” Edward whispered, his golden eyes meeting those of his brother’s in the haunting glass. His armor was gone, his blood seal gone, his soul reattached to its rightful shell. Ed felt his heart plunge into his stomach as his little brother smiled up at him, a sweet, innocent smile that he had missed so dearly.

“You can see your brother in there?” Harry asked, wishing to find out if one of his other friends saw something similar to what he had seen. Ed shook his head, though it was not at Harry’s question; he was trying to shake off the reality of the situation, the reality that the reflection was false, that he still bore a leg an arm of metal and that Alphonse was still trapped within his iron prison—

“ALPHONSE!! Alphonse, come back! COME BACK, DAMMIT!!”

A sudden noise outside the corridor made Ron and Harry gasp, and Ron quickly lunged to tear Ed away from the mirror.

“Come on, Ed, we’ve got to get out of here, _now_!”

Ed didn’t hear, didn’t see; all he could see was Alphonse.

“Ed!” Harry yelled from the doorway, grabbing at the cloak frantically. “Come on!”

“NO! I won’t leave him again!!”

“Ed, he’s not even really there!” Ron shouted in his ear. “He’s just a reflection.”

“…No,” Ed growled defiantly. “AL!!”

“It’s no use; just drag his butt over here, Ron!” Harry said, and it took the both of them to drag the thrashing, despairing blonde out of the mirror room and away from his brother.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Ed awoke with a start the next day, his eyes unpleasantly crusty from crying himself to sleep the previous eve. He achingly sat up, peering curiously out of the window to see that the snow still hadn’t melted. He then looked up at the clock and discovered that he had slept through breakfast. _That’s weird_ , he thought; he rarely ever slept through a meal due to his monstrously growling stomach. Why was he so exhausted?

Just then, all of the events and ghosts of memories that had hit him the night before hit him once more, literally striking him like a bullet to the stomach.

_Alphonse…damn, I did see you last night. The real you, not what you’ve become because of me._

All of the dark, melancholy feelings that had evaporated from his being on Christmas had returned ten-fold last night, reminding him of how depressed he felt right after the accident.

“…I’m going back to see him tonight,” Ed decided out loud, tucking his knees to his chest, as if to try to quench the pain he felt there. “I have to see Al again.”

An hour and a half later he plopped down into a seat next to Harry at the lunch table, dark bags lining his sullen eyes, his hair carelessly shoved into a loose ponytail rather than its usual neat braid.

“You ok?” Ron asked through his food. Ed nodded once, half-heartedly picking at his own plate. Harry’s actions were very similar to the blonde’s, his mind also wandering on about things that were not present at the time.

“Why don’t we all go down and visit Hagrid after this?” Ron suggested hopefully.

“No…you go…” Harry replied. Ron frowned at his friends.

“I know what you two are thinking about, that mirror. Don’t go back tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno, Harry, I’ve just got a bad feeling about it—and anyway, you’ve had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can’t see you? What if they walk into you? What if you know something over?”

“You sound like Hermione,” Ed muttered. Ron wrinkled his nose at the insult but kept to his point.

“I’m serious, guys, don’t go.”

“I have to see it again,” Ed whispered to himself, though Harry could hear him well enough.

“What did you see in the mirror last night, anyway, Ed? Was it your brother?”

“Yeah, what made you freak out like that?”

 _None of your goddamned business!_ the alchemist wanted to scream, but instead he bit his lip, utilizing every ounce of will he had to keep hot tears from escaping in the presence of his friends.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Ed did not leave with Harry that night but rather just snuck behind him the entire way to the mirror room. He didn’t want to be alone with him in case he tried weeding Ed’s image out of his mind again; it was bad enough that he lost it in front of him the previous night. As he slipped into the room behind the raven-haired boy, however, he heard another voice speaking with Harry from within.

“So—back again, Harry?”

Ed slid further into the shadows as he recognized Professor Dumbledore’s voice, watching the scene from his hiding spot.

“I—I didn’t see you, sir.”

“Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you; so you, like the hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.”

_Erised? What’s that supposed to mean…?_

“I didn’t know it was called that, sir.”

Ed watched as Dumbledore gestured to the inscription about the mirror’s enchanted glass as he continued:

“But I expect you’ve realized by now what it does?”

“It—well—it shows me my family—“

“And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy, and Mr. Elric reunited with his brother.”

Ed frowned; _so much for secrecy, Professor…_

“How did you--?”                                                                    

“I do not need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently. “Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?”

Harry did not know the answer, though Ed at that moment had a hypothesis…

“…It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts. Now you, who have never known your family, you see them standing beside you. But remember this, Harry. This mirror gives us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away in front of it, even gone mad. That is why tomorrow it will be moved to a new home, and I must ask you not to go looking for it again. It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry, and forget to live.”

Harry remained silent for a long moment after that; then he spoke:

“Sir—Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?”

“Obviously, you’ve just done so; you may ask one more thing, however.”

“What do you see when you look in the mirror?”

“I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks.”

Ed remained still in his corner of darkness after Harry had left the room, headed back to the dormitories, doubtless. But Dumbledore did not move, much to Ed’s disdain.

“…You may come out of hiding, now, Edward.”

“I knew you knew I was here,” Ed said sourly, taking Harry’s place in front of the mirror next to the headmaster.

“Alphonse’s image hit you hard the other night,” Dumbledore spoke with pity for the despairing boy. “You two really do look very much alike.”

Ed smiled slightly: “we used to get that all the time.”

“It’s the eyes.”

“Yeah…”

“It’s not your fault, Edward.”

Ed closed his eyes, and then tilted his head up to the inscription upon the mirror:

“ _I show not your face but your heart's desire_ ; it was the Sorting Hat that first told me that my heart’s one true desire is to live for Alphonse, to make it my life’s goal to fully restore him…and now I know that’s right. I will do anything to fix everything.”

He looked back into his brother face, touching the mirror with his human hand.

“…It is my fault that Al’s like that. It’s my fault he felt pain that night…it’s _my_ damn fault that the only thing holding my baby brother down to this earth is that stupid blood seal! _I’m_ the one to blame, Professor…that’s why I have to fix it all…”

Ed took a heavy, shuddering breath that made him realize how hard he was sobbing.

“……I have to fix Alphonse’s life.”

Dumbledore stood in silence as the boy wiped his eyes. It was hard for him to watch a student break down in such pain and agony, but he also knew that no matter what he said to try to make the boy feel better, it wouldn’t work, because Edward placed the blame solely on himself.

“Edward.”

Ed reluctantly took his gaze off of Alphonse to look up at his headmaster.

“You cannot continue to beat yourself up over this. You will make things right, one way or another. And you, Edward Elric, did not ruin Alphonse’s life…”

Ed looked back at his brother’s ghost-like reflection as Dumbledore finished:

“…you saved him.”

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

“Brother?”

Ed groaned, not wanting to wake up despite the nightmares he had suffered throughout the night. His bed was warm, and the dormitory was cold and dank, just like his heart. The mirror haunted his subconscious, just as Dumbledore said it would if he did not forget and live on.

“Brother? Ed?”

_That voice…dammit, I’m dreaming again._

Ed begrudgingly opened his eyes.

“…ALPHONSE!”

“Brother!” Al shrieked as his older brother catapulted off of his bed and into his sibling. Harry and Ron woke with a start at the sound of the large suit of armor clanking and clattering to the floor under the weight of his ecstatic brother’s embrace.

“Whoa, Alphonse! You’re here!” Ron said in surprise. Harry’s eyes widened at the sight of this person who must be Ed’s iron-clad brother.

“Mhmm,” the youngest Elric nodded happily. “Professor Dumbledore sent for me, inviting me to visit for a few days toward the end of the break!”

“That’s so cool,” Harry commented, feeling very envious of Ed at that very moment. “I’m Harry, by the way. Harry Potter.”

“Alphonse Elric; nice to meet you. Brother’s told me all about his new friends.”

“I thought I heard a familiar voice,” piped up the twin Weasley brother’s in unison from the doorway. “Good to see ya again, Alphonse!”

Breakfast was more animated than it had been for the past few days, and when Ed looked up towards the teacher’s table, he smiled up at McGonagall and Dumbledore, who based on the pleased looks on their faces must’ve been the ones responsible for sending Al to Hogwarts. Though there were not a lot of students at the school due to the break, Alphonse’s appearance managed to cause quite the commotion amongst the small group.

“This place is amazing,” Al remarked for the umpteenth time as he followed his brother and his friends out into the snow-covered courtyard. “Everything is so big and…and…”

“Magical?” Ed offered sarcastically, laughing as Al took a swing at him for poking fun at his mystified-ness.

“But seriously, I can’t _wait_ to go here next year, Ed.”

“Yeah,” Ed said, looking down at the imprints his boots made upon the crispy snow. “It can get pretty tough at times, though…”

Al proved to be quite the asset during the day’s snowball fight, and between having him as a guard and Ed’s cheating through transmutation, they easily creamed the older Weasleys. Alphonse looked cornered, however, when Ed re-emerged back into the school red-faced and frozen.

“You need to be careful still, brother,” the younger boy whispered to his aching brother.

“I’m fine, Al.”

“Did you ever open Winry’s package?”

In all honesty Ed had completely forgotten about the ‘gift’ from Winry.

“No, what is it?”

“It has polishing stuff in it along with an ointment for ice burns caused by the freezing metal, since I told her how cold it got up here and how you were out in it daily.”

“Ah,” Ed said, guiltily rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I’d better send her a thank-you letter of some sort, then…want to go and see Nova?”

They spent most of the remainder of the day up in the owlery or in the Gryffindor common room with Ron and Harry (who took it upon themselves to teach poor innocent Alphonse the ways of the wizard’s chess). It wasn’t until after dinner when Ron and Harry took it upon themselves to finally do a bit of researching on Nicolas Flamel that Ed and Al had the dormitory to themselves and the got the chance to talk about the stone.

“So have you gone back down to the corridor?” Al inquired. Ed shook his head:

“No; I’m not even going to try until I at least figure out how to get past that three-headed dog. Also, I need to at least get a rough idea of what else the teachers of the school could’ve put up to guard the stone, or else I don’t stand a chance, even with alchemy.”

“So you’re almost certain that it really is the stone in there?”

Ed looked at his brother; even without his golden eyes, Ed could see the longing in his helmet’s darkness, a longing from his soul to return where it belongs.

“Yeah. I am.”

Al nodded once, then stood up from his seat upon Ed’s bed to go look out the bay window.

“We’re so close…” he whispered.

“And yet so far away…yeah, I know, Al. It’s killing me, too.”

“Brother—“

“No; don’t. Professor Dumbledore already tried to tell me last night that what happened wasn’t my fault. I know that’s not the truth, though, Alphonse.”

Al turned to face his brother:

“Last night?” he questioned.

Ed sighed, knowing that their conversation would eventually turn to the Mirror of Erised. He also stood up from the bed, taking his place by Al’s side in front of the window as he told about the events that occurred the previous evenings. Al looked disbelieving at the fact that Ed had seen him once again in human form, but after seeing the look on his elder brother’s face, he knew it must be true.

In the middle of his story, Harry had tip-toed up the stairs, but upon seeing the brother’s having what seemed to be a very private conversation, he made to retreat back down to the common room…

 _Wait_ , a voice in Harry’s mind said, stopping him in his tracks. _This is your chance to learn something about Edward, something you’ve been dying to know since you’ve met him. Why give up this chance?_

“And I felt the same way I did the night I had to watch you being ripped away from the world, Al; the agony of being all along hit me again, full-force, and…god, I knew right at that moment that I’ll _die_ if I fail you…”

“Don’t say such things, Ed!” Al said, his voice cracking at the thought of being forever without his brother.

“But _dammit_ , Al, what if I _fail_?? What if you end up stuck like this forever, and all because of a stupid decision—a _fucking_ _evil_ idea on my part?! I don’t…I d-don’t…”

Ed faced Al and flattened his shaking hands upon his little brother’s hollow chest, the tears that threatened to flow judging by the crushed-ness of Ed’s voice finally slithering sickeningly down his agonized face.

“…and how can I possibly make amends for all that I took from you? I…led you with hopeless, cursed dreams, my brother…I was a _fool._ ”

Harry’s eyes were painfully widened at this point, his ears burning with what they’d eavesdropped upon. He bit his lip, guilt pounding through him and nearly burning as roughly as the curiosity that now brewed. Not much was learned upon this intrusion, no; on the contrary, Harry became increasingly more suspicious of the Elric brother’s past, of their deep, dark secrets within…

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Alphonse left Hogwarts the day before all of its other students that had left for the holidays returned for their second semester of classes. Hermione returned the day before term started, was eager to be filled in on the boy’s events at Hogwarts during the break. Upon hearing about the mirror incident, she was torn between horror at the idea of them all being out of bed, roaming around the school all of those nights in a row, and disappointment that he hadn’t at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was. In fact, they had just about given up on ever finding Flamel in any of the school’s library books, even though Harry was still sure he’d read the name before _somewhere_. Once the term had started, they were all back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Harry, however, had even less time than the other three due to Quidditch starting back up again.

“And you _are_ going to the next game, right Ed?” Harry demanded of the blonde one day. Ed looked up at the black-haired kid and simply offered him an off-hand shrug of the shoulders. However, under Ron and Hermione’s sinister glowers, Ed gulped and consented to attend the next Quidditch match…

Which was good because the quartet was met with awful news just the following day once Harry had returned from practice.

“ _Snape’s_ refereeing??” Ed said with the same amount of shock Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team had felt the day they found out.

“Don’t play,” said Hermione at once.

“Say you’re ill,” said Ron.

“Or that you’ve gotten a detention,” offered Ed.

“Pretend to break your leg,” Hermione suggested.

“ _Really_ break your leg,” said Ron.

“No, legs are too easy for Madam Pomfrey to mend; you’ll need to break something that’ll be more difficult to heal—“ Ed began, but was interrupted.

“I can’t,” said Harry. “There isn’t a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can’t play at all.”

At that moment Neville toppled into the common room—an obvious feat due to the fact that his legs had been stuck together with what they all recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. Everyone busted up at the sight except for Hermione, who hopped up from her seat at once to perform the counter-curse. Neville’s legs sprang apart at once and he got to his feet, trembling.

“What happened?” Hermione asked as Harry, Ed and Ron listened in.

“Malfoy,” said Neville shakily. “I met him outside the library. He said he’d been looking for someone to practice that on.”

“Go to Professor McGonagall!” Hermione urged Neville. “Report him!”

Neville shook his head: “I don’t want more trouble.”

“You’ve got to stand up to him, Neville!” said Ron. “He’s used to walking all over people, but that’s no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier. You need to pull an Edward on him!”

Ed raised an eyebrow at his redheaded friend.

“So _that’s_ what you call slugging someone now? Pulling a _me_?”

“Hey, it works…kind of.”

“There’s no need to tell me I’m not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy’s already done that,” Neville choked out. Harry was the one who helped him the most; digging in his pockets for a moment, he extracted the very last Chocolate Frog from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Neville, who honestly looked as though he might cry.

“You’re worth twelve of Malfoy,” Harry said. “The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn’t it? And where’s Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin.”

Ed, Ron and Hermione all felt relief as Neville’s lips twitched into a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.

“Thanks Harry…I think I’ll go to bed…D’you want the card, you collect them, don’t you?”

As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.

“Dumbledore again,” he said, “He was the first one I ever—“

Suddenly he gasped, staring at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron, Ed and Hermione.

“ _I’ve found him!_ ” he whispered. “I’ve found Flamel! I _told_ you I’d read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here—listen to this: ‘Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, _and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel_ ’ _!_ ”

“Alchemy? Hey,” Ron said, nudging Ed, “I’m surprised you didn’t see his name anywhere in those books you were reading the other day!”

“Yeah,” Ed said, frowning slightly in an attempt at semi-good acting. “That _is_ weird.”

Just then Hermione jumped to her feet, looking unnaturally excited.

“Stay here!” she said, and then sprinted up the stairs to the girl’s dormitories. Harry, Ed and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.

“I never thought to look in here!” she said excitedly. “I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading.”

“ _This_ is _light_??” said Ron, but he immediately shut his mouth under Hermione’s glare. She flipped through a bunch of pages before finally thrusting the book down upon the table in front of them.

“Nicolas Flamel,” she whispered dramatically, “is the only known maker of the Sorcerer’s Stone!”

This didn’t have quite the effect that she’d expected.

“The what?” said Harry and Ron.

“Sorcerer’s Stone?” Ed asked, honestly bewildered.

“Oh, honestly, don’t you three read? Look—read that, there.”

She pushed the book toward them, and they all crowded around to read the passage Hermione had pointed them to:

The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer’s Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers and many aliases, including the Philosopher’s Stone, the Sage’s Stone and the Great Elixir. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.

There have been many reports of the Sorcerer’s Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).

“See?” said Hermione, when Harry, Ron and Ed had finished. “The dog must be guarding Flamel’s Sorcerer’s Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they’re friends and he knew someone was after it, that’s why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!”

“A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!” said Harry. “No wonder Snape’s after it! Anyone would want it.”

“It’s both valuable and powerful, just like we guessed it was,” Ed said, sitting back upon the couch, his own book of alchemy upon his lap. “We were completely right.”

“And no wonder we couldn’t find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry,” said Ron. “He’s not exactly recent if he’s six hundred and sixty-five, is he?”

The redhead looked back down at the book and frowned.

“What is it, Ron?” Hermione questioned. Ron pointed to an illustration located in the lower right-hand corner of the page:

“That symbol. I’ve seen it before somewhere.”

Harry and Hermione looked over Ron’s shoulder.

“The Flamel Cross?” Hermione inquired, reading the little caption next to the symbol. “Where have you seen it?”

“On Ed’s coat,” Harry whispered, immediately recognizing the black pointed cross with the snake entwined around it. Ron and Hermione’s eyes widened in immediate recognition as well, and the three of them turned to face the blonde, who was innocently flipping through his book. Upon closer look at the spine and cover of said book, the trio spotted yet another Flamel Cross embossed into the leather.

Ed looked up at them, eyebrows raised.

“What’s up?”

Hermione blinked and pointed to the illustration in the book; Ed got up from the couch and looked curiously at what she was pointing at. Immediately his face blanched, and he gulped as he turned back to face his friends.

“…Ok,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe I’m a little more into alchemy than I’ve let on.”

~~*e.s.*~~


	11. A Dragon’s Flame Sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which 'pulling an Edward' becomes a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Chapter Ten: A Dragon’s Flame Sparks~

 

“A _little_?” Ron said increadously. “You’re practically a Flamel fan girl!”

Edward winced at the accusation, not knowing where to begin or, rather, how to explain everything _without_ explaining everything. Harry shook his head:

“We wouldn’t have had to do all of that work researching him if you had just told us what you knew, Ed. You would’ve been a huge help.”

“Why do you insist on keeping things from us?” Hermione asked, obvious hurt in her voice. Ed looked up at all three of his friends, who were waiting expectantly for some answers on his part. He took a deep breath:

“…I don’t mean to do this to you all, to hide everything. I…am finding it hard to be completely straight with you, however. You see, my father was an alchemist, and a damn good one too, so naturally he’d have a bunch of books and things relating to it in his office. Things that he left behind when he left us. “

“So did you and your brother try and learn alchemy as well?” Hermione inquired.

“We attempted it a little,” Ed said, fully expecting that question and shrugging it off so as to make it seem like their efforts were failed, without actually having to speak such blaspheming words. “But those books of my fathers were where I got all my knowledge from.”

“But that still doesn’t tell us why you kept all of that a secret,” Harry said. Ed looked him in the eye; _and here’s where the real lying begins:_

“According to the books, alchemy is a dark science, something that I thought I could get in big trouble for mentioning. That’s why I’ve kept it so secret.”

The interrogating trio looked at each other; the entirety of Ed’s ‘explanation’ still sounded like he was keeping something hidden. All of them—especially Harry, who couldn’t help but know that Ed’s surreptitiousness had something to do with whatever he and his little brother were talking about that night he eavesdropped upon them—knew there was a very large piece of the puzzle that was still missing-in-action. However, in an attempt to avoid any arguing or anything of the sort, they nodded somberly at the blonde, much to his great relief.

“I can understand a reason like that,” Hermione honestly said. “ _I_ wouldn’t want to get in trouble for something like that, either.”

“You? Get in _trouble_? Please,” Ron said scathingly, to which Hermione promptly replied to with a stuck-up raspberry. In reply the Weasley pointedly ignored said gesture, turning back to Ed. “But now you know you can trust us, mate!” he reasoned, offering the long-haired boy a freckled smile. “And don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”

“Yeah, same here,” Harry piped up, to which Hermione also pitched in with a nod and a smile of her own. Ed blinked, returning his friend’s forgiveness with a sheepish grin.

_That was way too close; I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. At the rate things are slipping out, all three of them will know every damned thing about me by the end of the school year…or sooner… Dammit!_

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

SNOOOOOOREE…SNOOO—

“Ed! Wake up, you git,” Ron hissed as he shoved at the snoring blonde. Ed quickly sat back up, his quill sticking to his reddened cheek as he looked to see if Professor Quirrell had caught him napping during Defense Against the Dark Arts class again. Luckily to him, though, his turbaned teacher was still reciting from his copy of the textbook various ways to treat a werewolf bite. Ed sighed as his quill fell down onto the desk; though he had to admit that the course itself was an interesting one, he constantly found himself fighting to stay awake during Quirrell’s lectures. If the teacher could only stop stuttering and speaking in such a timid, monotone voice, then maybe he’d have the privilege of a more attentive Elric in his class.

“Thanks. I owe you one, _again_ ,” Ed whispered back to Ron, nodding towards their stuttering instructor. “What’d I miss?”

“From _him_? Nothing,” Ron remarked, then grinned. “Me and Harry, on the other hand were just talking about what we’d do with a Sorcerer’s Stone if we had one.”

Ed raised an eyebrow at his friends:

“And what did you say?”

“I said I’d buy my own house, that way I won’t have to live with my Aunt and Uncle anymore,” Harry began, then nodded to Ron, who immediately began to list off multiple things he’d buy with an endless amount of gold, some of the things ridiculous enough to send Harry and Ed into near-hysterics.

“So what would you do with the Stone?” Ron finally asked Ed.

 _Use it to restore my brother’s body_ , Ed thought immediately, then shook his head in a desperate effort to get the thought out of his lead before it came blubbering out of his mouth.

“I would, uhm, I don’t know…buy out all of Flourish and Blotts’ books?”

Harry and Ron stared at Ed, who immediately mentally kicked himself. “Great,” he muttered. “I just made myself sound like Hermione.”

At the bemused comment Harry and Ron busted out in laughter, slapping Ed in the back and earning a nasty look from the ever-studious Hermione herself.

“Oh yeah,” Ron whispered to his friends after they’d stopped laughing. “I forgot one; I’d definitely buy myself my own Quidditch team.”

“You would,” Ed remarked disapprovingly; just then Harry face palmed.

“Quidditch,” he murmured. “I had completely forgotten about the match coming up!”

He sighed, looking at his two questioning friends.

“I’m going to play,” he informed them. “If I don’t, all the Slytherins will think I’m just too scared for Snape. I’ll show them…it’ll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win.”

“Just as long as we’re not wiping _you_ off of the field,” said Ed. Harry sighed, rolling his eyes:

“Thanks a lot, Ed.”

“Don’t mention it,” grinned the incognito alchemist.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

The sky was overcast Saturday morning, and with every step that he and his friends made towards the Gryffindor Quidditch team’s tent Harry could feel his knees shaking more and more due to the increase of nerves. He very well knew that when Hermione, Ron and Ed wished him good luck outside the locker rooms they were honestly wondering whether or not they’d ever see him again. And with good reason; even Ed had noticed how much all four of them seemed to be continuously running into the Potions Master throughout the week before the big match. It was as if he were following them, like a shadowed beast stalking its prey…

“Remind me why allowed you two to drag me here…?” Ed questioned irritably once again as they squeezed into the stands next to Hagrid and Neville, who couldn’t understand the reasoning behind their grim faces, or why they had all three brought their wands to the game.

“Because you’re here to support Harry!” Hermione frowned, and then lowered her voice to a hoarse whisper. “Now, don’t forget the Leg-Locker Curse, in case things get out of hand, it’s—“

“Yeah yeah, I know, _Locomotor mortis!_ ” Ed griped at the know-it-all, absently waving his wand in front of him in the process and accidently cursing an innocent bystander standing a couple rows down from him. He quickly stashed his wand as the poor bloke fell on top of his friend, completely unaware of what just happened.

“Sorry…”

“UGH, Ed!” Hermione said, shooting Ron a disapproving look as he nearly fell on top of her within his great bouts of laughter. “Be serious, here! We need to be ready in case Snape tries to hurt Harry again.

“We know, Hermione, calm down!” Ron said as he finally caught his breath.

“Yeah; do you really think we’d let our friend get hurt?” Ed agreed, internally marveling at the profound words escaping from his mouth. Hermione’s expression softened at this, and she nodded at them, re-directing her attention to the referee as he strutted onto the field—or rather, _stomped_ onto the field just as the two teams began to march on behind him.

“I’ve never seen Snape look so mean,” Ron noted to Ed and Hermione. “Look—they’re off. Ouch!!”

Ron, Hermione and Ed all turned around in unison to see who had poked Ron. To none of their surprises, it was Malfoy.

“Oh, sorry, Weasley; didn’t see you there.”

Malfoy grinned broadly at the buffoon-like Crabbe and Goyle.

“Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley, you’d probably appreciate the money!”

Ron didn’t answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all of her fingers crossed in her lap, and Ed, who looked slightly confused despite all of the Quidditch game-briefing the Weasley twins had given him the night before, were both squinting fixedly at Harry. He was currently circling the game like a hawk, peeling his eyelids for the Snitch.

“You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?” said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all (“ _Dammit!_ ” Ed cursed, stomping his automail foot so hard upon the wooden planks below him that it caused the entire stands to rumble deeply. He offered Hermione an innocent sideways grin as she raised a questioning eyebrow at his shenanigans). “It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money—you should be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains.”

Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.

“I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy,” he stammered timidly.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron and Ed, who were still not daring to take their eyes off of the game, patted their embarrassed friend on the back. “You tell him, Neville,” Ron muttered in support.

“And you, Elric; you should join, too. They’d take you just because they’d feel bad for a midget like you—!”

All Ed had to do was to swiftly turn his head and glare at Malfoy with malevolent eyes, just in order to silently remind him of the uber-beating he received from the so-called midget over Christmas break. The Slytherin-blonde gulped, brushing the wordless threat off by turning back to make fun of Neville once again.

“Longbottom, if brains were gold you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying something.”

Ed glanced over at Ron, whose nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety for his flying friend. _This could end badly…_

“I’m warning you, Malfoy,” Ed heard the redhead growl threateningly. “One more word—“

“Ron!” said Hermione suddenly, “Harry--!”

“What?” Ed and Ron said in unison. “Where??”

Sure enough, Harry had gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers of excitement from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

“You’re in luck, Weasley, Potter’s obviously found some money on the ground!” said Malfoy.

Ron snapped.

Before Malfoy knew what hit hi, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, and then clambered over the back of his seat to help. Hermione and Ed ignored them as they continued to cheer for their Seeker.

“Come on, Harry!” Hermione screamed, and Ed leapt onto his seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape. His attention to the game was broken, however, by a fierce bump to his perch, and he tumbled off and onto poor Neville, who was in the middle of a tussle with Crabbe and Goyle.

 “Ow; sorry, Neville,” Ed said as he helped his fellow Gryffindor up; he was immediately greeted with a hard blow to the face.

“That’s for what happened over the holidays,” Goyle snarked, laughing dumbly and moving to help Crabbe beat up on Neville once again as Ed jumped to his feet. Gritting his teeth in anger, he fiercely extracted his wand and pointed it at the offending goon:

“ _LOCOMOTOR MORTIS!”_

The effect was immediate; despite the fact that he heard the spell being cast and knew what it did, Goyle looked shocked as his legs were immobilized and he fell with a great THUD! at Neville’s feet. The normally-feeble Gryffindor grinned, giving the jerk a good, well-needed kick to the face.

Just then, the stands erupted; Harry had finally caught the Golden Snitch.

“Ron! Ed! Neville, where are you? The game’s over! Harry’s won! We’ve won! Gryffindor is in the lead!” shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front of her. She then turned and looked at the three of them.

“…Seriously?”

Ed and Ron shrugged, acting as nonchalant as possible despite their rather haggard appearance, whilst Neville could do nothing more but offer her a bloody-lipped grin as he said proudly:

“I pulled an Edward, Hermione!”

 Hermione gaped at him: “What—ohh, never mind, come on! We’ve got to go congratulate Harry!”

“Right,” the three boys said in unison as they followed Hermione out of the stands and onto the field, where the rest of the Gryffindors were already crowding around the Quidditch star. They could see Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped, and it took all they had not to laugh out loud at how pissed he looked as he spat on the ground.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Ed walked by the large Quidditch rings, observing them curiously. His slowly-bruising cheek was beginning to bug him a bit as the breeze began to get cooler and cooler in temperature, but he ignored it, focusing on the little bit of sunlight the cloud cover allowed to squeeze by. The game had been over for over forty-five minutes now, but he decided to stay behind and look at the field himself for a while…at least that’s what he told Ron, Neville and Hermione. In truth he wanted to be alone with his thoughts; here was a whole great chunk of his Saturday, wasted on a pointless game and a stupid fight. At this rate he was never going to get ahold of that damned stone.

“Ed? What’re you doing out here,” Harry inquired as he emerged from the locker rooms with his Nimbus Two Thousand at hand. “Shouldn’t you be inside celebrating with Ron and Hermione?”

Ed shrugged: “I haven’t gotten a chance to really get to see the field yet; just wanted to get a closer look for myself.”

“Oh…” Harry frowned as he stopped in front of his blonde friend. “What happened to your cheek…?”

“Ah hell,” Ed said. “Is it starting to look bad?”

“Did you get into another fight with Mal--?”

“Tell you later,” Ed grinned. “Or maybe I’ll let Ron and Neville tell you instead.”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly but he nonetheless silenced his questioning as they walked towards the broom shed.

“Snape didn’t do anything,” Harry muttered. Ed nodded:

“Yeah, even though he was right there, within easy reach. Something’s fishy here.”

“Agreed,” Harry said as they finally reached the shed. The black-haired boy stowed his broomstick, then leaned against the wooden door and looked at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing ominously red in the setting sun. Ed stood beside him, also staring intently at his school, thinking about what lies deep inside…

He shook these thoughts out of his head, and then grinned at Harry.

“So. Gryffindor’s in the lead. You did it, you showed Snape.”

Harry looked at his friend and nodded happily; his looked of happiness suddenly vanished however, for just when he was about to say that the two of them should go inside to celebrate with the rest of the House, he caught sight of a hooded figure running swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Ed turned to see what Harry was looking at and narrowed his golden eyes…

Clearly not wanting to be seen, the figure made its way as fast as it could toward the forbidden forest. Harry’s victory quickly faded from his mind as he and Edward watched. They recognized the figure’s prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner? What was going on?

“That’s Snape, isn’t it…?” Ed spoke softly, his brow creasing concernedly.

“…C’mon, we’ve got to check this out,” Harry hissed as he threw open the doors to the broom shed, yanked his Nimbus Two-Thousand off of its rack and hopped on, nodding at Ed to follow suit. The blonde made a move to join Harry on the nice broomstick, but then paused.

“What’s the weight limit of this thing?”

“Ed!” Harry said exasperatedly as he grabbed the boy’s sleeve and pulled him onto the broom. They took off, gliding silently over the castle, watching suspiciously as Snape entered the forest at a run.

They followed.

Once they were over the forest, Harry flew the broom in vulture-like circles, brushing the tops of the tree branches until he could hear voices. He glided them toward the sound and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree, grabbing Ed’s robes just in time to keep the unsteady blonde from falling out and blowing their cover. They climbed carefully along one of the huge branches, Harry holding tight to his broomstick as they tried to see through the leaves. Below them, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape—but he wasn’t alone. Quirrell was there, too. Ed couldn’t quite make out the expression on his face due to Harry’s head partially blocking his view, but he was stuttering worse than ever. The boys strained to catch what they were saying.

“…d-don’t know why you wanted t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus…”

“Oh, I thought we’d keep this private,” said Snape, his voice icy. “Students aren’t supposed to know about the Sorcerer’s Stone, after all.”

Harry and Ed looked at each other, then leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling something; Snape interrupted him.

“Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid’s yet?”

“B-b-but Severus, I—“

“You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrell,” said Snape dangerously, taking a step toward him.

“I-I don’t know what you—“

“You know perfectly well what I mean.”

Ed narrowed his eyes; _there it is again, that sinister tone of his voice. This guy is definitely hiding something, something really dark by the sounds of it…_

An owl hooted loudly, and Harry nearly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, “—your little bit of hocus-pocus. I’m waiting.”

“B-but I d-d-don’t—“

“Very well,” Snape cut in. “We’ll have another little chat soon, when you’ve had time to think things over and decide where your loyalties lie.”

He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Harry and Ed could see Quirrell, standing quite still as though he was petrified. Silently, they re-mounted the broom and took off back towards the castle, suddenly in a great hurry to see Ron and Hermione.

Quirrell blinked once; it seemed as if he was finally truly alone, though he had a certain feeling at the back of his head that he was not. His… _instincts_ proved correct as a soft-spoken, wanton voice crescendoed from the shadows.

“And where exactly _do_ your loyalties lie?”

Quirrell spun around, eyes widened in shock as he raised a quaking finger up at the figure lurking in the darkness before him.

“W-what a-are you? S-show y-y-yourself!”

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher heard the figure let out a sigh, and then she emerged from her hiding place, greeting him with a careless flip of her long, black hair.

“That was rude,” she pouted. “Don’t you mean ‘who’ are you?”

Quirrell blinked once again, and then gulped, nodding once.

“My apologies, m-madam; _who_ a-are y-you?”

“Heh,” she said, leaning against a tree as a smirk spread across her face. “I’ll tell you later, maybe. In the meantime, you have _got_ to stop with the stuttering.”

“Lust! Lust, where did you go!?” a voice from behind Quirrell called out. The professor jumped as a giant man bearing a similarly shaped tattoo as the woman before him ran up to the scene. The woman’s plump lips turned downwards into a disapproving frown.

“So much for the air of mystery…”

“And j-just what are you t-t-two doing at H-Hogwarts??” Quirrell demanded, though his high-tamboured voice did not sound very commanding at all. Lust and Gluttony looked at each other and shrugged.

“Just checking up on somebody,” remarked Lust, her nose turned up and away from his trembling stance. “It’s really none of your concern.”

“Oh, b-but it is; y-you two are trespassing! Y-you are a t-threat to this school!”

Lust rolled her eyes: “as if you _aren’t_ a threat?”

Quirrell was silent as a slow smile crept upon the female monster’s face; Lust had struck a nerve.

“Don’t try and lie to me. We know just what you are hiding at the back of your head. You are just as bad as us.”

Gluttony’s eyes widened:

“No way! Lust, d’you mean that _this_ is that great wizard Father was telling us about?”

“No, Gluttony,” the female homunculus said scathingly. “This guy is simply a harbor for the soul of that great wizard to rest in—and a rather weak one, by the looks of it. He’s nothing more than a useless shell.”

Quirrell had begun to shake; despite his fear, he felt a need to at least attempt to look like a real wizard in front of these creatures, and thus he reached into his robes and extracted his wand.

“H-h-how did you kno—OOOF!!” Quirrell let out a guttural yelp as Lust’s heel made contact with his stomach, his wand flying out of his hand and into her grip. She leaned over him, placing a stray piece of hair behind her ear, her plump breasts distracting the endangered wizard from the true severity of the situation at hand.

“…We’ll come back and visit when you are gone,” she hissed in Quirrell’s face, though the professor was certain that she was no longer speaking to him directly anymore. He stared in utter fear as she stood back up, swiftly turning her back on him, throwing his wand back at him, where it landed silently upon his heaving chest.

“By the way,” she hissed threateningly over her shoulder at the wizard as her and her obese companion walked back into the shadows from which they came. “We were _not_ here.”

Meanwhile, back at the castle—

“Where have you two _been_?” Hermione squeaked as Ed and Harry entered the Gryffindor common room that night after their escapade into the forest.

“We won! You won! And _I_ pulled an Ed!” shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. “I gave Malfoy a black eye, Neville took on Crabbe single-handed and Ed put Goyle in the Leg-Locker Curse! It was _awesome_! Neville’s still in the hospital wing, but Madam Pomfrey says he’ll be alright—talk about showing Slytherin!! Everyone’s waiting for you in the common room, we’re having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and—“

“Never mind that now,” Ed said breathlessly. “We can tell Harry about how we kicked Slytherin ass later!”

“Why, what’s the matter?” Ron inquired. Harry shook his head:

“Let’s find an empty room; you wait ‘til you hear this…”

And with that they silently slid back out the entrance hole and into the corridor, making sure Peeves was nowhere to be found inside the nearest classroom before Harry shut the door behind them and began to recant what he and Ed had seen and heard.

“So we were right, it _is_ the Sorcerer’s Stone!” Ron exclaimed, and Ed nodded once.

“Did we honestly doubt that it was before now, anyway?”

“True,” Ron agreed, tapping upon his chin. “And Snape’s trying to force Quirrell to help him get it by the sounds of it.”

“Right,” said Ed. “He asked him how to get past the three-headed dog…and he said something about Quirrell’s ‘hocus-pocus—‘”

“Which means that there are other things guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy,” Harry stated.

“A bunch of weird, complex enchantments, probably,” Ed piped up interruptedly.

“And by the sounds of it Quirrell would have done some complicated anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through—“

“So what you two are saying means that the Stone’s only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?” said Hermione in alarm. Ron frowned.

“It’ll be gone by next Tuesday by the sounds of it.”

“Let’s up you’re wrong,” Ed spoke darkly. “Imagine the Sorcerer’s Stone in the hands of someone like that…”

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Quirrell was braver than they thought.

Considering the threats made by Snape on top of his surprise Homunculus visit, he was doing a decent job of seeming unchanged, as if neither event ever happened in the first place. In the weeks that followed he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn’t look as though he’d cracked yet. In all honesty, Ed looked worse than the traumatized Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher did.

“Ed, wake up!” Hermione spoke as loudly as she dared in the library whilst shaking the snoring blonde. Ron and Harry peered up from their notebooks curiously.

“Is he asleep _again_?” the redhead remarked. Ed sat up from the table he was drooling on and yawned hugely.

“Damn; what time is it?”

Hermione frowned:

“Never mind that; why on earth have you been so exhausted lately?”

“Yeah,” said Harry with a look of concern for his groggy friend. “What have you been doing after Ron and I go to sleep, we thought you went to bed when we did…?”

 Ed pondered this; _what_ have _I been doing? Just reading, showering, studying…cleaning my automail…trying to come up with plans to get the Stone…sneaking out to the third floor corridor to check that the damned monster was still growling inside…_ Ed winced internally. _Ah_ hell _. No wonder I’m so dead to the world!_

“Just worried about exams,” he muttered absentmindedly. Ron laughed out loud:

“ _You_ of all people shouldn’t have to worry!”

Ed shrugged, closing the book he had fallen asleep atop. Now that there were barely ten weeks away, the four of them were spending most of their free time in the library. Hermione was really the only one who honestly used that time to study, though; Ed spent most of the time recovering much-needed sleep whilst Harry and Ron did all they could to try and focus on their notes as much as possible.

“I’ll never remember this,” Ron burst out, throwing his quill down and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they’d had had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming. Ed glanced over at Ron’s notebook curiously, then rolled his eyes and tossed his notebook on top of the redhead’s.

“My notes are much more organized. You can have them.”

Ron gaped at the notebook as if it were the most glorious creation to ever be place on the planet. Ed grinned at his friend’s grateful expression, looked up and raised his eyebrows:

“Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?”

Harry, Hermione and Ron looked up from their books as Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

“Nothin’ much, Ed, jus’ lookin’,” he said in a shifty tone of voice that got the student’s interests at once. “An’ what’re you lot up ter?” He looked suddenly suspicious. “Yer not still lookin’ fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?”

“Please,” Ed said caustically. “We’ve known who he is for a while now.”

“ _And_ we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Sorcerer’s St—“

“ _Shhhh!_ ” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “Don’ go shoutin’ about it, what’s the matter with yeh?”

“There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact,” said Harry, “about what’s guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy—“

“SHHHH!!” said Hagrid again. “Listen—come an’ see me later, I’m not promisin’ I’ll tell yeh anythin’, mind, but don’ go rabbitin’ about it here, students aren’ s’pposed ter know. They’ll think I’ve told yeh—“

“Guess we’ll see you later, then,” Ed said, a mischievous smirk plastered upon his face. Hagrid blinked, shook his head then shuffled off.

“…What’s ‘rabbiting’ supposed to mean, anyway?” Ed remarked as they watched their giant friend exit through the library doors. “That didn’t make any sense.”

Ron shrugged: “When _do_ any strange things that Hagrid says make any sense?”

“True.”

“What was he hiding behind his back?” said Hermione thoughtfully. “Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?”

“I doubt it,” Ed said, standing up from his seat and nodding at Ron. “Let’s go see what section he was in, I’ve done more than enough studying for today.”

“You did nothing but _sleep_ the entire time we were in here,” said Hermione with a disapproving look on her face. Ed simply waved her off and led the way out of the section they were working in.

“…Ok, here we go,” Ron said, grabbing a book off the nearest shelf. He read the title and gasped.

“What, what’s it about?” Ed asked as he too extracted a book from the shelves. _A Dragon Keeper’s Guide_ , read the title. He blinked; _the hell…?_

“Dragons??” Ron gasped. Ed chortled:

“Please; there’s no such thing!”

Ron gaped at the blonde: “No such thing? Of course dragons exist!”

Ed raised an eyebrow at the Weasley as he continued to pull various books from the shelf.

“ _Dragons!_ ” Ron announced when the two had returned to Harry and Hermione. “Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper’s Guide._ ”

“Hagrid’s always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him,” said Harry. Edward shook his head fervently:

“Really, guys? There’s no way these things actually exi—“

“I promise you they do,” Ron said, frowning at Ed. “My brother Charlie works with them, as a matter of fact.”

Ed blinked, not quite knowing what to say. _Just another stereotype to add to the collection, I suppose…_

“Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks’ Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It’s hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we’re keeping dragons in the back garden—anyway, you can’t tame dragons, it’s dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie’s got off wild ones in Romania.”

“So what on earth is Hagrid up to?” wondered Hermione.

Their suspicion only grew when they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper’s hut roughly an hour later to see all the curtains tightly closed.  “Who is it?” called the giant’s voice from within. The quartet looked at each other as Hagrid hastily let them in. It was stifling hot inside, making Ed and Ron take off their long robes due to sweatiness.

“What’s with the fire on such a warm day, Hagrid?” Ed inquired, shaking his head when the bearded gamekeeper attempted to offer out some stout sandwiches. Hagrid glanced at the fireplace behind him and simply uttered about cooking something. He then turned to Harry:

“So—yeh wanted to ask me somethin’?”

“Yes,” said Harry, sitting up in his seat as he immediately decided upon getting right to the point. “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Sorcerer’s Stone apart from Fluffy.”

Ed also sat up a bit straighter in his chair, suddenly wishing there was some way that he could take notes on whatever Hagrid revealed to them so he could begin concocting his plan to snag the Stone himself. To his greater dismay, however, Hagrid only frowned at Harry and said, “O’ course I can’t.”

Ed’s fists clenched beneath the cover of the table top.

“Why not??”

Hagrid turned and looked at the blonde as he explained:

“Number one, I don’ know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn’ tell yeh if I could. That Stone’s here for a good reason.”

 _Yeah, for me to snatch it!!_ Ed thought frustratingly whilst the gamekeeper continued.

“It was almost stolen outta Gringotts—I s’ppose yeh’ve worked that out an’ all, too, right?”

“Well _yeah_ , it was kind of obvious—“

“Honestly, it beats me how you four even know abou’ Fluffy!”

Ed gritted his teeth, but silenced himself as Hermione began to speak:

“Oh, come _on_ , Hagrid; you might not want to tell us, but you _do_ know that you know everything that goes on around here,” she said in a warm, flattering voice. The boys watched with great wonder and awe as Hagrid’s beard twitched in an effort to keep from smiling at the compliment.

“We only wondered who had _done_ the guarding, really.” Hermione went on. “We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you, of course.”

Hagrid’s chest swelled at these last words; Harry, Ron and Ed beamed at their ingenious friend.

“Well…I couldn’t hurt ter tell yeh just that an’ that alone, I s’ppose…let’s see…he borrowed Fluffy from me, an’ then some o’ the teachers did enchantments…Professor Sprout—Professor Flitwick—Professor McGonagall—“he ticked them off his fingers, “Professor Quirrell—an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course…”

Ed frantically repeated the names in his head in an effort to memorize them for later. He stared unblinkingly at Hagrid as he wracked his brain for the last name.

“…I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.”

“ _Snape_??”

Hagrid raised an eyebrow at the four outraged Gryffindors.

“Yer not still on abou’ that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped _protect_ the Stone, he’s not about ter steal it.”

“On the other hand, it would make it just that much easier for him to find out how the other teacher guarded it by being in on the whole thing himself,” Ed pointed out, shaking his head. _Great; now this bastard’s got an even bigger advantage over me…_

“He’s right,” Harry said anxiously. “You’re the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren’t you, Hagrid? And you wouldn’t tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?”

“Nope, not a soul knows except me an’ Dumbledore,” said Hagrid proudly.

“Well, that’s something,” Harry muttered to the others, then followed Ron and Ed’s suit by taking his heavy Hogwarts cloak off. “Hagrid, can we have a window open? I’m boiling.”

“No can do, Harry, sorry,” said Hagrid. Ed noticed him glance at the fire again and asked in suspicion:

“What have you got there, Hagrid?”

Harry, Ron and Hermione all looked over at the thing being heated over the flames too as Hagrid fiddled nervously with his beard. “Ah, that’s—well, er—“

“ _Where_ did you get it, Hagrid?” said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at what turned out to in fact be a huge, onyx-colored egg. “It must’ve cost you a fortune!”

“Won it,” said Hagrid proudly.

“But what are you going to do with it when it’s hatched?” said Hermione. Ed narrowed his eyes skeptically and inched closer to the fire to get a closer look for himself at what was supposed to be a dragon’s egg. As he quietly examined the black surface of the foreign object he idly listened to Hagrid explaining himself and talking about all he’s been reading up on the animal. After a good thirty seconds Ed finally decided that the egg was in fact real and he stood up from his crouch and shook his head, wondering if the idiosyncratic wonders would ever cease.

“An’ see here—how ter recognize diff’rent eggs—what I got there’s a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re rare, them.”

“You do realize you live in a _wooden_ house, right Hagrid?” Ed pointed out, turning to face the giant. A though occurred to him and he chuckled slightly as he inquired, “Or do dragons not actually breath fire?”

“Of course they breathe fire!” Ron said, laughing at Ed. “What kind of question is _that_?”

Ed shrugged: “Thought I’d better ask.”

The four of the turned to see what Hagrid thought of this very concerning fact, but he wasn’t listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire below the egg with care.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Ed was having trouble finding enough alone time to plan his quest to get the Stone. Hermione had gone into overdrive when it came to forcing him, Harry and Ron to study for exams and had even made them study schedules to follow. It was getting both ridiculous and problematic, for that meant that most of the free time Ed had to spend in the library was usually joined by his three friends. He was never alone up there anymore, and it wasn’t like he could just tell them that he wanted to be alone, because he knew very well that their suspicions from first semester still lingered strong beneath everything, despite how much their friendship began to grow. And so Ed had returned to his habit of not sleeping; though he’d end up paying for such a decision the following day, he knew it’d be worth it if he managed to concoct a good plan to achieve his main goal, his only reason for attending Hogwarts in the first place.

After checking to see if everyone else in the room was fast asleep, Ed piled up all of his school books, a quill and ink, and a parchment notebook atop his bed, all viable, useful tools to utilize whilst planning to successfully get through multiple guarding enchantments.

“… _Lumos_.”

He knew he had one big advantage over Professor Snape (if he really was going after the Stone himself; though his friends were already fully set upon Snape being the one after the Stone, Ed himself had a few doubts about their theory…); his knowledge of alchemy, plus the fact that he could perform transmutations without a circle would come in handy, too. However, if there are some kinds of spells and/or curses in the third floor corridor that really do require a considerable amount of magical knowledge to get through, it’s going to be very difficult for Ed to figure his way through them, especially since he really was only a first-year. That’s where Snape had the major advantage, for he was a skilled wizard and was raised in the world of magic all his life. Edward Elric was still getting used to the whole idea of wizardry.

After a moment of racking his brains for all of the teachers Hagrid had named off to him, he scribbled out a list of all their names and their specialties:

_McGonagall- transfiguration_

_Sprout- herbology_

_Flitwick- charms_

_Snape- potions_

_Quirrell- dark arts_

_Dumbledore- …all of the above?_

He read through his list, added Hagrid’s ravenous dog to the list, then sat back and thought. He couldn’t even _begin_ to imagine what these teachers could’ve planted in that corridor! With magic there were no boundaries, close to nothing holding witches and wizards back, much unlike alchemy with all of its laws and restrictions. Professors like Sprout and Snape would be the easiest to figure out, and even then their specialties could range anywhere between all Ed had learned about them this year and all he still had no clue about. And then there were teachers like McGonagall and Quirrell, whose subjects are broader than the Law of Equivalent Exchange. Plus above everyone else was Dumbledore’s thing; Ed knew undoubtedly that the headmaster’s trick would be the most difficult to crack…

Crack; shatter; break. Glass. Mirrors.

Ed blinked; _the Mirror of Erised! That’s it, that must be Dumbledore’s; after all, he did say over the break that it would be moved to a different location; there must be something else hidden in that glass other than reflections of desire._ Ed quickly wrote down these thoughts before they slipped his drowsy mind, before he was forced to whisper, “ _Nox,_ ” and stow all of his planning tools beneath his four-poster bed, where he then transmuted a small chest with a padlock from the floorboards to keep his secrets safely hidden. He sat back up and looked about the room, making certain that the light from the transmutation did not awaken any of his roommates before crawling under the covers and allowing himself to be taken into the arms of sleep at last.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

 _It’s hatching_.

Ed and Harry looked up at Nova with an excited expression on their faces after reading the two measly words Hagrid had written. The owl blinked, glanced down at the note for herself, and then ruffled her feathers in a way that could have resembled a shrug. Ed rolled his eyes at his owl’s attitude and passed the note across the table to Ron and Hermione. Ron gasped:

“Forget Herbology, let’s go right now!”

Hermione looked absolutely appalled at such a suggestion. Ron glowered at her as she crossed her arms firmly and stated: “We can’t do that, _especially_ with exams coming up so soon.”

“Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?”

“We’ve got lessons, we’ll get into trouble, and that’s nothing to what Hagrid’s going to be in when someone finds out what he’s doing—“

“Shut up!” Harry and Ed whispered, frantically glancing over Ron and Hermione’s shoulders. Malfoy was only a few feet away from their table and he had stopped dead in his tracks to eavesdrop. Ed’s eyes narrowed; he did not like the look on Malfoy’s face at all.

When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of their lesson, the quartet hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest and was immediately greeted by a flushed and excited Hagrid.

“Hurry in, it’s nearly out,” he said as he ushered them inside. The egg was lying on the table, and Ed could distinctly see deep cracks trailing all around the circumference of the black shell. Something was moving inside, and a funny clicking noise could be heard emitting from within the encasement. They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath. Not a moment too soon there came a scraping sound and the egg suddenly split open, and a baby dragon flopped onto the table.

It sneezed, a couple of sparks flying out of its snout; Ed quickly reared back from the creature, deciding that observing from a safer distance would be most wise. Hagrid’s eyes began to water at the sight of the not-so-pretty beast.

“Isn’t he _beautiful_?” the gamekeeper murmured as he reached out a hand to stroke the dragon’s head. It snapped at his fingers in response, showing its pointed fangs.

“Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!” cooed the half-giant.

“I don’t think _that’s_ what it was trying to say…” Ed muttered out of earshot of Hagrid but within Ron’s hearing range, causing the redhead to grin at his wise-ass of a friend.

“Hagrid,” said Hermione, “how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?”

Hagrid opened his bearded mouth to enthusiastically answer but stopped short. His face suddenly drained with color as he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

“What’s the matter?” inquired a concerned Harry.

“Someone was lookin’ through the gap in the curtains—it’s a kid—he’s runnin’ back up ter the school.”

Harry and Ed looked at each other in horror and bolted to the door. Even at a distance there was no mistaking him; Draco Malfoy had seen the dragon.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

“Ed, may I see your Transfiguration notes from yesterday? I think I missed something somehow…”

“Sure,” Ed replied, tossing his notebook at Hermione as he flipped to the next page in his Defense Against the Dark Arts book. Though his studious friend was under the impression that he was so quiet because he was studying extremely hard, little did she know that he was only reading the books over again in order to stuff his mind as full as it can be before he saw his plan out.

Just then Harry and Ron came into the common room, both of them looking as if they had something especially important to let Hermione and Ed in on.

“Ok, so Hagri—“ Ron began, but was silenced by Ed. About forty-five seconds of silence passed, and then Ed dog-eared the page of his book and tossed it onto the floor in front of him.

“Ok, continue.”

“What happened?” Hermione asked. Harry lowered his voice slightly so as to avoid any more eavesdropping.

“We figured out a way to get rid of Norbert. Hagrid agreed to let Ron’s brother come and get it and take it to Romania, where Charlie can put it back in the wild where it belongs.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Ed agreed. “When can Charlie come to get the dragon?”

“We don’t know yet,” Ron said. “Harry sent a letter to him with Hedwig. Until we get word from him we’ll just have to wait.”

But they couldn’t wait much longer. The dragon was growing bigger and bigger every day, and was also becoming increasingly difficult for Hagrid to handle. At first all four of them would go down as much as they could to help their friend out, but Harry had Quidditch practice to punctually attend and Hermione insisted that if she let up on her studying she’d surely fail. So it became up to Ron and Ed to be as helpful as possible. Harry lent them the invisibility cloak so that they wouldn’t be seen visiting the gamekeeper so late at night.

“Ok, how many of these rats will it eat?” Ron asked, setting the crate down next to the dragon’s perch. Hagrid looked at the crate:

“All o’ them.”

“ _All_? Seriously??” Ed said, gaping at the pestering dragon.

“Well duh, he’s a growin’ boy!”

“Yeah, and he’s growing _too_ fast,” Ed stated. “Your brother needs to hurry up and reply, Ron—“

“OUCH!”

Ed and Hagrid jerked their heads around in alarm. Ron had leapt away from Norbert, his right hand wrapped tightly around his bloody left.

“What—?“

“It bit me! The bloody creature took a bite out of my hand!”

“Will yeh calm down an’ lemme see it!” said Hagrid, taking a concerned look at Ron’s palm. Ed glared at the dragon.

“You just couldn’t wait for the stupid rats, could you?”

The dragon blinked, smoke coming out of his nostrils as he huffed in Edward’s face. The alchemist narrowed his eyes, cautiously taking a rodent into his right hand and offering it to the Norwegian Ridgeback. It eyed it hungrily for a split second, and then lunged for the tasty morsel, its fangs momentarily colliding with Ed’s automail hand in the process. Both Ed and Norbert staggered back, Ed feigning shock as he quickly covered his ripped glove, the dragon expressing legitimate shock, part of the rat dangling from its fangs.

“What, did ‘e bite you, too??” Hagrid asked. Ed shook his head:

“Nah, he barely missed.”

Ed stashed his now de-gloved automail hand into his pocket, once again thinking for the umpteenth time that that was too close.

When the two of them arrived back in the common room that night they found with relief Charlie’s reply to their previous letter sitting in Harry’s hand.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

The next day Ron ended up in the hospital wing.

“It’s not just my hand,” he whispered, “although that feels like it’s about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books just so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me—I’ve told her it was a dog, but I don’t think she believes me—I shouldn’t have hit him at the Quidditch match, that’s why he’s doing this.”

“That’s not true,” said Ed. “He’s an asshole, he would’ve done this anyway.”

“It’ll all be over Saturday at midnight,” said Hermione, but this didn’t do anything to soothe Ron’s nerves at all. On the contrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat.

“Midnight on Saturday!” he said in a hoarse voice. “Oh no—oh _no_ —I’ve just remembered—Charlie’s letter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert!”

Their eyes widened, and Ed cursed under his breath. They didn’t get a chance to answer Ron, however, for at that moment Madam Pomfrey came over and made them leave, saying Ron needed to sleep.

Saturday night came up fast, and Ron wasn’t out of the hospital wing yet. It was up to Harry, Hermione and Ed to deliver Norbert to Charlie.

“And it’s too late to change the plan now,” Harry told Hermione. “We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert.”

“We’ll just have to take the risk,” Ed agreed, looking to Hermione who sighed reluctantly.

Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.

“He’s got lots o’ rats an’ some brandy fer the journey,” said Hagrid in a muffled voice. “An’ I’ve packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely.”

“Hagrid, it’s a _dragon_ ,” said Ed. “I doubt it’ll get lonely. Hungry, maybe, but that’s it.”

“Don’ talk like that aroun’ him!” Hagrid said defensively. “He has feelin’s, too, y’know…”

Ed facepalmed as ripping noises that sounded as though the teddy was having his head torn off came from inside the crate.

How the three of them managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Harry and Hermione had to hand it to Ed, who turned out to be much stronger than he looked, much to their surprise. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another—even one of Harry’s shortcuts didn’t make the work much easier.

“Nearly there!” Harry panted as the finally reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

“Wait, stop!” Ed hissed abruptly. Sudden movements ahead of them made them almost drop the crate. Forgetting that they were already invisible, they shrank into the shadows, staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared. Professor McGonagall had Malfoy by the ear:

“Detention!” she shouted. “And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how _dare_ you—“

“You don’t understand, Professor,” the skinny blonde stammered in a desperately high-pitched voice. “Potter’s coming, and Elric’s probably with him, too—he’s got a dragon!”

“What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on—I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!”

After overseeing a scene like that the steep spiraling staircase that led up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world. They didn’t dare throw off the cloak until they’d stepped out into the cold night air, all three of them feeling grateful to be able to breathe properly again. Hermione and Edward did a sort of jig.

“He’s busted! Malfoy’s got a detention!” said Ed excitedly.

“I know, I could sing!” was Hermione’s equally ecstatic reply.

“Don’t, either one of you,” Harry advised them, though he felt just as happy about the situation as they did. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness. Charlie and his friends who had come to help were a cheery group; they showed Harry and Ed the harness they’d rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then the three of the shook hands with the dragon specialists and thanked them all very much.

At last, Norbert was out of their hair for good.

“I’d say tonight was a success,” Ed said as they descended once more down the spiral staircase. “No more dragon, Malfoy in detention—“

He swallowed his last words, however, as all three Gryffindors caught sight of a figure waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. As they stepped into the corridor, Filch’s face loomed suddenly out of the darkness, a big, rotten-toothed grin spread thin across his decrepit face.

“Well, well, well,” he whispered, “we _are_ in trouble.”

Ed facepalmed once again; they’d left the invisibility cloak at the top of the tower.

Filch took them down to Professor McGonagall’s study on the first floor, where they sat and waited without daring to say a word to each other. They were cornered, they very well knew that. How could they have been so stupid to forget the cloak? Just when Harry thought things couldn’t get any worse, he found he was wrong; when Professor McGonagall appeared before them at last, she was leading Neville into the room with them.

“Harry! Ed!” Neville burst out the moment he saw the three of them. “I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag—!”

Ed leapt out of his seat as Harry violently shook his head to shut Neville up, but Professor McGonagall was not having any of it. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the four of them.

“Sit down, Mr. Elric! I would have never believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were up in the astronomy tower. It’s one o’ clock in the morning. _Explain yourselves_.”

“We were studying astronomy, of course,” Ed muttered sarcastically under his breath; much to his disdain, however, his head of house heard his smart-ass remark, and she was far from amused.

“I think I’ve got a good idea of what’s been going on,” she said. “It doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I’ve already caught him. I suppose you think it’s funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?”

Ed, Hermione and Harry looked over with sadness at the poor, blundering Neville.

“I’m disgusted,” said Professor McGonagall. “Five students out of bed in one night! _Five_! I have _never_ heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense. And you, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than that. As for _you_ , Elric; you need to get your act together _immediately_.”

Even Ed had to wince slightly at McGonagall’s harsh, accusatory words. She exhaled frustratingly:

“All of you will receive detentions—yes, you too, Mr. Longbottom, _nothing_ gives you the right to walk around school at night.”

“Come _on_ , Professor, it wasn’t his fault—!” Ed began to attempt to defend the distressed Neville Longbottom, but he was interrupted sharply by his furious headmistress:

“ _Silence_ , Elric!!”

Ed’s golden eyes formed into a gleaming glower behind his blonde bangs, but he nonetheless did as McGonagall said and sat back in his seat.

“…And fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor.”

“ _Fifty_??” Harry gasped in outrage.

“Fifty points _each_ ,” clarified Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose.

“Professor—please—“

“That’s the most _unfair_ —!“

“You _can’t_ —”

“Don’t you tell me what I can and can’t do, Potter—and if you do not shut your mouth and sit yourself down in your seat this instant, Edward Elric, I will _not_ hesitate to give you three more detentions on top of the one you’ve already earned!!”

Ed obeyed, the piercing glare of his head of house finally beginning to legitimately scare him senseless.

“…Now get back to bed, all of you,” McGonagall spoke, the infuriated look on upon her face rigid and unblinking. “I’ve never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students.”

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Needless to say nearly the whole of Gryffindor house hated Neville, Harry, Hermione and Edward for the two-hundred points they cost the whole house. Nobody would even speak to them except for the Slytherins, who were constantly clapping Harry on his back and thanking him. Only Ron stood by them, but he did admit that not even his clown-like twin older brothers had ever managed to lose Gryffindor two-hundred points off of one escapade.

Ed was virtually unfazed by the circumstances, grim as they were; despite the fact that he did not care about the House Cup as much as his friends did, he took this opportunity to focus on his plan of getting the Sorcerer’s Stone before the end of the year. Though Harry and Ron automatically assumed that he was simply following Hermione’s lead in studying up for the upcoming final exams, little did they know what he was actually frantically reading up for…

About a week before exams were due to start, Ed and Harry found themselves confronted by a very unexpected event. Though he did not wish to get involved in anything else that could get them in trouble, even Harry couldn’t help but eavesdrop with Ed this afternoon when they overheard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead from where they stood. As they drew closer to the door, they recognized Quirrell’s voice.

“No—no—not again, please—“

It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Harry and Ed looked at each other, and then moved closer.

“All right—all right—“they heard Quirrell sob.

Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry as he strode out of sight without even noticing Harry and Ed’s presence. The boys waited into the professor’s retreating footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom.

“…It’s empty,” Ed whispered dumbfounded. Harry looked closely around the room, then shook his head and pointed.

“There’s an open door at the other end; someone could’ve left out of there.”

“But we didn’t hear any other voices,” Ed pointed out. Harry shrugged:

“Snape could’ve been whispering really softly.”

Ed turned and raised an eyebrow at Harry.

“You’re going to automatically say it was Snape without anything to go by?”

Harry blinked:

“Well yeah, I mean, who else could it be? You saw what he did to Quirrell in the forest.”

Ed frowned slightly but nonetheless remained silent as Harry closed the classroom door quietly.

“C’mon, we’ve got to go back up to the library to tell Ron and Hermione about what we heard.”

“…You go on up, I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

Harry looked at Ed:

“What are you going to do?”

“I just want to check something out real quick for myself; I’ll be right up afterwards.”

“We shouldn’t be messing arou—“

“Look, you’re the one who said they weren’t going to poke around, not me,” Ed pointed out with finality. Harry frowned and shook his head in disapproval but went ahead and left the alchemist to his meddling anyway. Ed immediately turned back to the classroom and gingerly opened the door, stepping inside with a cautionary air of investigation. He stopped and stared at the ajar door Harry had pointed out to him for a moment or so before approaching it. He took a deep breath, then swung the door open wider in order to see where it led.

It led to an empty supply closet.

Ed blinked in surprise, stepping inside to get a closer look. After feeling across the walls and floor he found no secret passageways, no trap doors or any other ways out. It was just an ordinary closet.

He stepped back out, a look of shock on his face. His hypothesis was correct, Harry really was wrong for Quirrell couldn’t have been talking to Snape if Snape was never even in the room. The Potions master was not who Quirrell was talking to…but then who did that leave? _Could he have been talking to himself, threatening himself?_ For some reason Edward highly doubted it; he sighed in frustration as he exited the classroom and made his made back up to the library in order to share what he had discovered to Ron, Hermione and Harry.

“…But why would Professor Quirrell threaten himself?” Hermione thought out loud after Ed recanted just what he had seen. Ron tapped on his chin:

“Maybe he’s just mad.”

“Then how would he be able to _teach_?” said Hermione. Ron rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“That _would_ be the most important thing in your mind!”

“There just _had_ to have been someone else in the room,” Hermione insisted, looking at Harry, who nodded in agreement.

“Snape must’ve been hiding or something when you went in the classroom after him, Ed,” Harry reasoned. “Or maybe he’s like Professor Dumbledore in that he doesn’t need a cloak to be invisible.”

“That’s an uncomforting thought,” remarked Ron, shuddering at the idea of an invisible Snape.

“Or maybe there was another door in the room that you hadn’t noticed,” Harry finished. Ed shook his head firmly:

“There was no other way out but the door I entered through; there seriously couldn’t have been anyone else in the room with Quirrell.”

“Well, obviously there _was_.”

Ed huffed; it was no use, Harry had already convinced Ron and Hermione on his own set idea. Their minds were not open to change, no matter how far-fetched Harry’s assumptions were. In the end he decided to just try and let it go, with one final though that whatever was going on with Quirrell, whether it was all in the stuttering professor’s head or with someone else, it had better not get in the way of Edward stealing the Sorcerer’s Stone.

 

~~*e.s.*~~


	12. Dark Secrets Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit will begin to go down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Chapter Eleven: Dark Secrets Within~

 

Nova was not a happy little owl.

Not only was she rudely awakened by the rustling of robes just as she had drifted into her much-needed beauty sleep, but she was completely snubbed by the intruder as well. The teacher which the students called ‘Professor McGonagall’ bore three letters in her worn hands and upon a little extra peering over on her part, Nova could see her master’s name written across the front of one of them. After reading this she immediately perked up, feeling less bemused at the thought of getting to see Edward, and maybe she can get a tasty bite or two off of his breakfast plate in the process. HOWEVER, the Professor was impertinent enough to take one look at the tiny owl and deem her incompetent for the task! The nerve and _audacity_ of some people! Instead she passed right by the pissed little barn owl and strapped the letters onto Hedwig’s talons. As McGonagall exited the owlery, Nova fixed her most vile, most unnervingly evil glare upon the snobbish snowy owl, who made it a point to smirk at Nova before taking off towards the castle. Nova gaped after her for a short moment of stunned silence, then shot after her, the fury of a thousand suns evident in the speed of her flapping.

She arrived less than four seconds after Hedwig did, though her landing more of a hard tumult into the unsuspecting snowy owl. After a brief pecking battle that ended in the two puffed-up fowls having to be pulled apart by Harry and Ed, Nova sat back up, straight and regal as any queen, the look she gave Hedwig clearly threatening the offender. _Just try that again, I dare you._

“You just _had_ to come yourself, didn’t you??” Ed snapped at the small barn owl. She turned her head to face him; _she started it!_

“Here,” Harry said, tossing one of the letters over to Ed, who opened it only after shooting his bratty owl one last look of reprimand.

                _Your detention will take place at eleven o’ clock tonight._

_Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall._

_Professor M. McGonagall_

Ed blinked; he had forgotten about the detentions he, Harry, Neville and Hermione still had to serve. He glanced across at Hermione, half-expecting her to go into a furor over a whole night of studying lost, but she didn’t say a word. Like him and Harry, she felt they deserved what they got. The young Elric sighed, half-heartedly ruffling Nova’s feathers as she helped herself to some of his scramble eggs. _My first year here, and I’ve already got two detentions under my belt._

Eleven o’ clock came far too soon for the four detention-bound Gryffindors; they said goodbye to Ron in the common room and went down to the entrance hall in silence. Filch was already there—and so was Malfoy. Ed narrowed his eyes in disgust; he had also forgotten that Malfoy had gotten a detention, too.

“Follow me,” said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.

“I bet you’ll think twice about breaking a school rule again, eh?” he said, leering at them. “Oh yes…hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me….It’s just a pity they let the old punishments die out…hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I’ve got the chains still in my office, keep ‘em well-oiled in case they’re ever needed…”

 _This guy’s a completely twisted sicko…_ Edward thought to himself as they all marched across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing, obviously trying not to look too afraid in front of the crabby, old caretaker. The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them in and out of darkness. Ahead, Harry and Ed could see the lighted windows of Hagrid’s hut. Then they heard a distant shout:

“It that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.”

Ed had to keep from laughing out loud; _this_ is what they were going to do as a detention? Spend the night with Hagrid? _Some punishment_ , Ed thought as he remembered his last detention he had to serve with Professor McGonagall and how much more harsh that punishment was.

Filch caught the relief showing upon the four student’s faces and his frown deepened:

“I suppose you think you’ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again—it’s into the forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in once piece.”

At this Neville let out a wimpy little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.

“The forest?” he repeated, and he didn’t sound quite as cool as usual, his voice jacking up to about three decibels about its normal timbre. “We can’t go in there at night—there’s all sorts of things in there—werewolves, I heard!”

Ed rolled his eyes; “No such thing,” he muttered scathingly.

Filch raised an eyebrow at the blonde.

“You better believe they exists, ‘cause there’s more then werewolves in those trees, lad. You can be sure of that.”

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

“Abou’ time,” he said. “I’ve bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. All right there Harry, Ed, Hermione?”

Ed opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a grimy hand placed roughly upon his head.

“Shouldn’t be too friendly to them, Hagrid,” said Filch coldy, patting Ed none-too-gently. “They’re here to be punished, after all.”

Hagrid pulled a rather annoyed Edward away from the creepy caretaker. “That’s why yer late, is it?” he said with a frown. “Bin lecturin’ them, eh? ‘Snot your place ter do that. Yeh’ve done your bit, I’ll take over from here.”

“I’ll be back at dawn,” said Filch, “for what’s left of them,” he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness. Malfoy watched him leave and then turned to Hagrid.

“I’m not going in that forest,” he said, and Harry and Ed smiled at each other, both pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.

“Yeh are if yeh want to stay at Hogwarts,” said Hagrid fiercely. “Yeh’ve done wrong an’ now yeh’ve got ter pay for it.”

Ed sighed, choosing to tune out the rest of the conversation and instead observed the ominous-looking wood stretched out before them. He felt no fear towards what may lie within, even if Filch was right and werewolves truly did live in there. Most likely the old man was lying just to scare them anyway. All of what he saw was nothing compared to the island his and his brother’s alchemy teacher had abandoned them on for training. It was darker, far more fearsome, and had someone who made it their point to try and kill or at least maim them on it. It was much more threatening than the forbidden forest…unless of course that was just his tainted childhood horror being made out to be something much more frightening than it actually was.

“Right then,” said Hagrid after he managed to shut Malfoy up at last. “Now listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight, an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me for a moment.”

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees.

“Look there,” said Hagrid, “see that stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood.”

“ _Unicorn_ blood??” Ed remarked, mouth agape at what his ears had just heard. _Seriously?? What’s next, vampires?!_

Hagrid nodded somberly, unknowing of the reason behind Ed’s exclamation.

“There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery.”

“And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?” said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

“There’s nothin’ that lives in this forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,” said Hagrid. “An’ keep ter the path; we’re gonna split inter two parties an’ follow the trail in diff’rent directions. There’s blood all over the place, it must’ve bin staggerin’ around since last night at least.”

“How awful,” Hermione said faintly, sadness for the poor beast evident in her shining eyes.

“I want Fang,” said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang’s long teeth.

“All right, but I warn yeh, he’s a bloody coward,” said Hagrid. “So me, Harry, Hermione and Ed’ll go one way an’ Draco, Neville, an’ Fang’ll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we’ll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an’ practice now—that’s it—an’ if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks—no, Ed, not gold, fix it—there ya go—so be careful. Let’s go.”

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path, and Harry, Ed, Hermione and Hagrid took the left path while Malfoy, Neville and Fang took the right. They walked in silence, their eyes to the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

Ed and Harry noted Hagrid’s very worried expression.

“ _Could_ a werewolf be killing the unicorns?” Harry asked.

“Not fast enough,” said Hagrid. “It’s not easy ter catch a unicorn, they’re powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before.”

“How powerful could a horse with a horn really be,” said Ed, puffing a stray piece of hair out of his face as he maneuvered over the winding tree roots.

“Ye have no idea, do yeh? Why, their hair alone is very powerful stuff, yeh’ve used it in Potions class for sure. No’ only that but their blood is very precious as well.”

“Why, what is it used for?” Harry inquired. Hagrid rubbed the back of his neck:

“Well, yeh see, the blood of a unicorn will keep a feller alive, even if he is but an inch from death, but at a terrible price. Tah have killed somethin’ so pure and defenseless to save himself he’d have to lead a cursed life in return, from the moment the blood touches his lips.”

“Equivalent exchange…” Ed muttered. Harry and Hermione turned to him in curiousity.

“What did you say, Ed?” said Hermione. Ed shook his head:

“I said how awful…so you think that some _one_ , rather than some _thing_ is killing the horses?”

“Aye, that’s what I’m afraid of,” Hagrid said darkly.

“But who’d be that desperate?” Harry wondered aloud. “If you’re going to be cursed forever, death’s better, isn’t it?”

“One would think so, wouldn’ they, Harry,” Hagrid agreed.

“What does it matter if they’re already cursed?” said Ed, the ominous tone in his voice causing the other three to look curiously at him.

They walked past a mossy tree stump. Ed listened carefully to the sounds of the forest; he could hear running water and figured there must be a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.

“You all right, Hermione?” Hagrid whispered. “Don’ worry, it can’t’ve gone far if it’s this badly hurt, an’ then we’ll be able ter—GET BEHIND THAT TREE!”

Hagrid seized the three students and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out on arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The four of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.

“I knew it,” the half-giant murmured. “There’s summat in here that shouldn’ be.”

“A werewolf?” Harry suggested.

“Will you stop with the damn werewolves already??” Ed hissed annoyedly, earning himself a look of slight disdain from the lightning-scarred boy.

“That wasn’ no werewolf an’ it wasn’ no unicorn, neither,” said Hagrid grimly. “Right, follow me, but careful, now.”

They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

“Who’s there?” Hagrid called. “Show yerself—I’m armed!”

No answer; whatever was before them refused to reveal its identity to the small group. After a longer bit of a moment’s pause Hagrid finally lowered his bow but did not sheath his arrow.

“…Best keep movin’, then,” Hagrid said, motioning for them to follow him deeper into the forest.

As they continued on walking through the dense, dark trees, Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. He tapped on Ed’s shoulder and whispered:

“Do you have the nasty feeling that we’re being watched, or is it only me?”

Ed blinked, glancing quickly over his shoulder, then looked back at the dark-haired boy and nodded once.

“It’s like we’re being followed by the shadows; we can’t see them, but they can sense our every move.”

“Exactly!” Harry agreed. “I’m glad we’ve got Hagrid and his crossbow with us.”

Suddenly, Hermione grabbed Hagrid’s arm and pointed.

“Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!”

“You three wait here!” Hagrid shouted. “Stay on the path, I’ll come back for yeh!”

They huddled closer together as they listened to their big friend crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very nervous now, until they could no longer hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them.

“You don’t think they’re been hurt, do you?” whispered Hermione.

“I don’t care if Malfoy has,” said Ed.

“But if something’s got Neville…” Harry sighed. “It’s our fault he’s here in the first place.”

The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Ed found his heart jumping slightly at every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig.

What was going on? Where were the others?

At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville, and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him as a joke. Neville had panicked, of course, and sent up the sparks.

“You just couldn’t wait to be an ass until we got out of the forest, _could_ you?” Ed growled at the idiotic white-blonde, who simply stuck his tongue out at the alchemist in response.

“We’ll be lucky ter catch anythin’ now, with the racket you two were makin’!” Hagrid said, looking around him as he decided upon what to do next. “Right, we’re changin’ groups—Neville, you stay with me an’ Hermione; Harry, Ed, you go with Fang an’ this idiot. I’m sorry,” Hagrid added in a whisper to the boys, “but he’ll have a harder time frightenin’ you, an’ we’ve gotta get this done.”

“Please!” Ed said scathingly. “As is this weak dumbass could scare _me_.”

“Who are _you_ calling weak, runt??” Malfoy shouted in reply. Ed’s fist shot out and grabbed at the cowardly Slytherin’s robes, his gold eyes shining in pure hatred.

“ _Who’re you calling so small that he has to be looked through a magnifying glass to actually be seen, you pale-faced moron?!!_ ”

“Calm down, Ed, he didn’t say all that!” Hermione squeaked, pulling the enraged pipsqueak away from the smirking Malfoy.

Harry, Malfoy, Ed and Fang walked for nearly half an hour after finally splitting up with the rest of the group, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Ed thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker as opposed to lessening up as expected. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

“Look—“he murmured, holding his arm out to stop Malfoy and Edward.

Something bright was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer; it was the unicorn, no doubt about it, and it was dead. Ed and Harry looked at each other; they’re sorrow echoed in each other’s faces. Never had they ever seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves. Harry had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered….Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Ed, Malfoy, and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal’s side, and began to drink its blood.

“ _AAAAAAAAAAARGH_!”

Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted—so did Fang. Ed furiously gaped at the running figures.

“What a _cowardly—!_ ”

But the final words of his insult were cut off by a giant hand rapidly clasping onto his mouth. Harry spun around to help his friend, wand extracted and at the ready, but it was far too late. Edward had already been yanked away from the scene and dragged into the darkness by his mysterious attacker—whatever that _thing_ was. Harry raised his wand up over his head, but before he could manage to produce the intended red sparks signaling an emergency, a pain he’d never felt before pierced his head. It was if his scar was on fire, as if a dagger were being continuously jabbed into his face. He collapsed to his knees, dropping his wand in the process; when he feebly lifted his head back towards the shadowy figure drinking the slaughtered unicorn’s blood, he realized that it was coming swiftly toward him…

“…Well done, Gluttony. You managed to get me the right person. At least, I rather _hope_ you did.”

The woman walked over and lifted Ed’s right sleeve, smiling with satisfaction once she looked upon the moonlit gleam of his steel prosthetic. Ed gasped and leapt to his feet once the big, chubby hand was removed from his face. He extracted his wand and shouted, “The hell was _that_?! who are you??”

“Put the wand away,” the long-haired woman leaning against the oak tree in front of Edward said, swiping a piece of hair from her face. “It’s not like you can do anything with it yet.”

Ed considered this, and then made a move to bolt away from the two of them. Unfortunately enough for him, though, the lady’s companion actually moved pretty fast for a fat guy. He gritted his teeth angrily as the black-dressed fat-ass stalked towards him.

“He looks chewy, Lust, can I eat him?”

“Gross!” Ed exclaimed, immediately jumping away from the hungry brute. Lust pinched the brim of her nose in annoyance.

“ _No_ , Gluttony; he’s important.”

“The hell is going on here?!”

“You certainly have a colorful vocabulary for an eleven-year-old,” Lust commented, brushing off the blonde’s anger:

“Calm down, we just want to talk; we have a bit of a problem with you being here, at this school.”

Ed blinked, then raised a confused eyebrow at her.

“Why would you two have a problem with me? I don’t even know you!”

“You’re more important than we’d care to let you know,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly in response to Ed’s tenseness. “Which is why we need you back in Amestris, back with your brother and all of our other sacrifices.”

“Other _sacrifices_?”

“Yes!” Gluttony piped up, licking his lips again, as if the thought of sacrificing people was just as appetizing as Edward.

“So we need for you to rejoin your brother soon, and to stay in Amestris—“

“How do you know my brother??”

“You ask too many questions,” Lust remarked boredly. “That has nothing to do with the matter at hand.”

“Yes it does,” Ed said, crossing his arms defiantly. “If you don’t tell me at least that then what makes you think I’d listen to anything of your requests?”

“Oh, but we’re not asking, Edward Elric…”

Edward’s eyes widened as Lust’s gloved fingers suddenly extended out, sharpening to the acuteness of a double-edged sword. The tips punctured the bark of the tree behind Edward, his neck caught between two of the inhumane, dangerous fingers.

 “We’re telling. And if you choose to be stupid enough to disobey, I promise, you will lose the one thing that still matters in your poor, pathetic life.”

Ed stared her down, not allowing any bit of his expression to reveal the fear and panic he was most definitely feeling on the inside.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t be stupid; we know all about why Alphonse Elric is the way he is. We know all about that little blood seal of his, and we won’t hesitate to destroy it if you don’t _cooperate_.”

The young Elric’s eyes widened in horror at this threat, his heart dropping into his stomach.

“No…Al…don’t you dare touch him! You stay away from my brother, you monsters!!”

Lust smiled at his screams:

“What are you going to do about it?”

Gluttony giggled in delight as the young alchemist took in everything that was just thrown straight at him. _Who are these people… monsters? And how do they know that Alphonse and I are alchemists, or that we’ve done Human Transmutation before? How do they know about Al’s armor and my automail?? And how did they find me?! And what exactly do they mean by ‘sacrifice?!?’ This doesn’t feel right; there’s a lot that they’re not telling me, and they’re doing that on purpose…but I can’t overpower them right now, not without using alchemy, and if I use alchemy, Harry might see the light from the transmutation…..._

“…Fine.”

This time the smile on Lust’s face reached her reddened pupils: “Good boy.”

She retracted her fingers and motioned for Gluttony to follow her. Before she left Edward alone at last, however, she walked over to him one last time:

“You don’t belong in this school anyway. Face it; you’re just trying to escape by coming here.”

Ed glowered at her as she turned; he heard her call out, “By the way, say hello to that stuttering professor of yours for me,” and then she and her obese counterpart finally dissipated into the shadows of the forest.

The wind picked up as the alchemist stood still, trying and failing at not thinking about what he had just been told. Was Alphonse safe in Resembool without him? He’s a good fighter and an excellent alchemist himself, and he is more than capable of taking care of himself, no doubt about that, but he knows nothing about this mess awaiting him. If he had known anything about it he would’ve for sure warned Edward one way or another. Edward looked around the ominous environment concernedly; was he himself safe? Now every time he heard a branch creak, or heard some leaves being swept up in the nighttime air, Ed’s mind tricked him into thinking it was those weird people back to threaten him again...

“Ed! Ed? Where are you?”

“Edward!”

Ed looked up as the rest of the group finally caught up with him.

“Ed! Ed, are you alright?” Hagrid asked immediately.

“We were so worried when Harry came back and told us you had been taken by something!” said Hermione.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Ed said, putting his hands behind his back just in case they were still shaking; the last thing he wanted to do was worry everyone any more than they already were, even if there really was a very good reason to distress.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Exams had completely left Edward’s mind with all of the new developments popping up around him, so naturally they came as a nasty shock when Hermione reminded them to study the night before. On top of that it was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox—and she made sure to take extra care when watching Ed perform the task, wary of his sneaky alchemy. She was pleased to see him not only do the transmutation without cheating, but also his snuffbox was one of the most finely crafted one out of the entire class.

“Well done,” she praised the young alchemist, gracing his presence with one of her rare smiles. “You’ve certainly come a long way since the beginning of the year, Mr. Elric. I shall look forward to seeing your talents grow next year as well.”

Snape made them all nervous during his practical exam, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion. He got especially angered when Ed was the first one done, glaring hatefully at the beaming blonde. In response to Ed’s successful potion-making, Snape simply kicked him out of his class before he could annoy the hook-nosed teacher any further than he already did.

Despite his overall accomplishments with his finals, Ed’s mind was most focused on his devious plans soon to take action; breaking into the third-floor corridor and stealing the Sorcerer’s Stone. Though he did not by any stretch of his imagination manage to completely figure out what each of the teacher’s defenses were, he had strong theories behind possible solutions. He felt like he’d be ready for anything that got thrown at him, despite only having a year of magical studies behind him. Ed wasn’t the only one thinking about anything but exams during exam time, though; ever since he had seen Voldemort in the forbidden forest, Harry had been having constant stabbing pains in his forehead. Neville though it was all because Harry couldn’t sleep, but Ed knew that wasn’t the case.

“I keep waking up because of nightmares, and I don’t know how to stop them,” Harry confided in Edward one day in the Gryffindor common room. Ed looked up from his book:

“What nightmares?”

Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead as he admitted to his friend:

“I keep reliving that night, when Voldemort tried to get me…except now it’s worse than ever, with more blood and more darkness.”

Harry paused and looked over at Ron and Hermione, who were sitting across yet far enough away in order to not overhear their whispering.

“Ron and Hermione don’t seem as worried and you and I are, Ed.”

“It’s because they didn’t see what we saw in the forest,” Ed said, shrugging. “With these kinds of things you _can’t_ understand the seriousness of the situation until you see the horror for yourself.”

“That’s true,” Harry agreed, meeting Ed’s eyes. “And you? Have you figured out what those people meant by telling you to go back to your home?”

Ed shook his head, and he didn’t offer Harry up any of his hypothesis either, for that would mean revealing the entire, complete tale of that encounter. Ed had only told Harry about them demanding that he returned home and how they threatened his brother. He made sure not to say a thing about them knowing about their secret, for Harry himself still had no clue about such dark secrets hidden within Edward…

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who’d invented self-stirring cauldrons and they’d be free, free to plot about how to save the Sorcerer’s Stone (or, in Ed’s case, when to steal it). When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Ed and Harry couldn’t help cheering with the rest.

“I’ve always heard that Hogwarts’ end of the year exams were frightful, but I found that rather enjoyable,” Hermione said perkily. Ron rolled his eyes:

“Speak for yourself!”

Harry winced, earning himself three looks of concern.

“All right there, Harry?” asked Ron.

“Yeah, just my scar again…”

“Go see Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione suggested.

He looked up at his three friends:

“I’m not ill—it’s happened before, but never as often as this…I think it’s a warning. It means dangers coming.”

“Danger? What kind of danger?” Hermione asked fearfully.

“I don’t like the sounds of that,” Ed muttered as they all flopped under a tree by the lake. “Hopefully it doesn’t mean the Stone’s about to get nabbed.”

“Naw,” Ron said, waving off Ed’s commentary. “Remember what Hermione said the other night? The Stone’s safe as long as Dumbledore’s around.”

He looked back at Harry.

“Anyway, we’ve never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he’s not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down.”

“Does every point you make have to have a Quidditch reference in it?” Ed inquired sarcastically. Ron narrowed his eyes at the boy.

“Yes.”

“Of course!”

Ron, Ed and Hermione all looked curiously at Harry, who had just jumped to his feet.

“What? Where are you going?”

“I’ve just thought of something,” said Harry, who had visibly turned white. Ed also leaped to his feet at the sight of his pallid friend.

“This can’t be good…”

“We’ve got to go see Hagrid now,” Harry informed everyone as he quickly took off toward’s their friend’s hut.

“Why?” panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd,” said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, “that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and—“

“A stranger turns up who just happened to have an egg in his pocket,” Ed finished for the bespectacled boy. “That is weird..”

“Exactly! How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t you think?”

“Why didn’t we see this before?” Ed asked, obviously the only one in the group that understood where Harry was going with this.

“What are you two talking about??” said Ron, but neither Harry nor Ed answered as they sprinted across the grounds toward the forest.

Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up and he was playing a lovely little tune on a small wooden flute similarly crafted as the one he gave Harry for Christmas.

“Hullo,” he said, smiling. “Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?”

“Yes please,” said Ron, but Harry cut him off.

“Sorry Hagrid but we’re in a hurry; I’ve got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?”

“Dunno,” Hagrid replied casually. “He wouldn’ take his cloak off.”

He saw the four of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows.

“It’s not that unusual, yeh get a lot o’ funny folk in the Hog’s Head—that’s the pub down in Hogsmeade, the village.  Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn’ he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up.”

Harry sank down next to the armchair.

“What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?”

“Mighta come up,” said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. “Yeah…he asked what I did, an’ I told him I was gamekeeper here….He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after…so I told him…an’ I said what I’d wanted was a dragon…an’ then…I can’ remember too well, ‘cause he kept buyin’ me drinks….Let’s see…yeah, the he said he had the dragon egg an’ we could play cards fer it if I wanted…but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn’ want it ter go ter any old home….So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy…”

Panic shot through the quartet as Harry asked, trying to keep his voice calm, “And did he—did he seem interested in Fluffy?”

“Well—yeah—how many three-headed dogs d’yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy’s a piece o’ cake if yeh know how to calm him down; jus’ play a  bit o’ music an’ he’ll go straight off ter sleep—“

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified.

“I shouldn’ta told yeh that!” he blurted out. “Forget I said it! Hey—where’re yeh goin’??”

The four of them did not speak to each other at all until they came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.

“We’ve got to go to Dumbledore. Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort…”

Edward didn’t hear the rest of Harry’s panicked words, however, for his mind was wandering upon much more important matters. Hagrid’s last bit of information he gave the four of them still rang in his head; _jus’ play a bit o’ music an’ he’ll go straight off ter sleep_. Ed now knew how to get past the first obstacle in the way of his Sorcerer’s Stone. Between that knowledge and the solid, surefire theories he had drawn up within his brilliant mind about what all the other traps would most likely be, Ed couldn’t stand to wait. He had to physically remind himself not to grin in front of the others, no matter how ecstatic he felt. At last, he was going to achieve his goal, was going to obtain what he had come to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to get in the first place; a way to restore his little brother’s body.

“What are you four doing out here?”

Ed looked up from his deep train of thought; it was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

“We want to see Professor Dumbledore,” said Hermione.

Ed raised an eyebrow; _we do_?

“See Professor Dumbledore?” Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. “Why?”

“It’s sort of secret,” Harry said, but he wished at once he hadn’t, because Professor McGonagall’s nostrils flared.

“Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago,” she said coldly. “He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once.”

“He’s _gone_?” said Harry frantically. “ _Now_?”

“Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time—“

“But this is important!”

“Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?”

“Look,” said Harry, throwing caution to the winds, “Professor—it’s about the Sorcerer’s Stone—“

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn’t that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms and down onto the hard floor beneath her feet. Ed mentally facepalmed, then bent down to pick up his Head of House’s books.

“Leave them, Elric!”

Ed immediately snapped back up at attention.

“How do you know—?”

“Professor, I think—I _know_ —that Sn—that someone’s going to try and steal the Stone. I’ve got to talk to Professor Dumbledore.”

She eyed him with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

“Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow,” she said finally. “I don’t know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it’s too well protected.”

“But Professor—“

“Potter, I know what I’m talking about,” she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up her fallen books without Ed’s assistance. “I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine.”

But they didn’t.

“It’s tonight,” said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. “Snape’s going through the trapdoor tonight.”

 _So am I_ , thought Ed; he figured it’d be best to go the one night the headmaster _wasn’t_ there, regardless of the chance of running into someone else with the same idea in mind. He felt confident that he could take them down, for he had one weapon that he was no longer afraid of using in this situation, one weapon that whoever else may break into the corridor would never expect to have to come up against; alchemy.

A dark shadow loomed over the group; Ed looked up at the owner of said shadow and gulped. _Speak of the devil_.

“Good afternoon,” Snape said smoothly.

They stared at him.

“You shouldn’t be inside on a day like this,” he said, with an odd, twisted smile. Ed wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“And you shouldn’t do _that_.”

Snape raised an eyebrow:

“Do what, exactly?”

“Smile. It doesn’t suite you.”

Snape frowned, to which Ed gave a sarcastic thumbs-up to.

“Much better.”

“You want to be more careful,” said Snape dangerously. “Hanging around like this, people will think you’re…up to something.”

Harry and Ed flushed; they turned to go outside, but Snape called them back.

“Be warned, Potter, Elric—any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Especially you, Elric; I dare you to make one more—just _one more_ smart remark…Good day to you.”

He strode off in the direction of the staffroom. Out on the steps, Harry turned to the others.

“Here’s what we’ve got to do,” he whispered urgently. “One of us had got to keep an eye on Snape—wait outside the staff room and follow him if he leave it. Hermione, you’d better do that.”

“Wha--?”

“I’ll search his office for any proof,” Ed offered. “If this ends badly, at least we’ll have something to back up our claims to Dumbledore.”

“Good idea, Ed,” Harry nodded. “Though I really hope Snape _doesn’t_ succeed.”

“You and me both,” said Ed. _I’m the one that needs to succeed instead!_

“Wait, hold on a second,” Hermione said. “Why me, why am I the one who has to guard the staff room?”

“It’s obvious,” said Ron. “You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know.” He put on a high-pitched voice. “’Oh Professor Flitwick, I’m so worried, I think I got question fourteen _b_ wrong….’”

“Oh, shut up,” said Hermione, but in the end she agreed to go and watch out for Snape.

“And we’d better stay outside the third floor corridor,” Harry told Ron. “Come on.”

Ed nodded and made to walk in the direction of the dungeons until he could no longer here his friend’s footsteps echoing down the halls behind him. He then stopped, searching for the nearest staircase that will take him back up to the Gryffindor common room, back to the room he shared with Harry and Ron, where all of his notes are safely hidden, awaiting for this very moment when they would be of dire use.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Edward did not meet Harry, Ron and Hermione at the table for dinner, making them increasingly nervous. The three of them sat uneasily apart from one another in the common room after dinner, and still none of them had seen head or foot of Edward Elric. Nobody bothered them as they all thought silently about what they were planning on doing; breaking into the third floor corridor themselves and stopping Snape, or Voldemort, or whoever they would find there trying to steal the Stone for themselves. The three of them also took care to mime going up to their dormitories and getting ready for bed, so as to avoid causing any sort of suspicion from their fellow Gryffindors. Once the common room had emptied and everybody had gone off to bed, they returned downstairs, Harry with his invisibility cloak in his hands.

“We’d better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us—if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own—“

“Harry! Help! Over here!” said a voice from the corner of the room. Harry, Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, and then ran over to assist the frantic voice. They found Neville, caught up in yet another Leg-Locker curse.

“What happened?” inquired Harry as Hermione quickly performed the proper counter-curse. “Who did this to you? Was it Malfoy again?”

“Never mind that—what are you all doing?”

Harry gulped, putting the cloak behind his back.

“Nothing, Neville, nothing.”

“You’re going out again,” he said.

“No, no, no,” said Hermione. “No, we’re not. Why don’t you go to bed, Neville?”

“Yeah,” backed up Ron. “Go on, we’ll be up there soon.”

Harry looked at the grandfather clock by the door. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

“You can’t go out,” said Neville, “you’ll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble!”

“You don’t understand,” said Harry, “this is important.”

“Yeah, that’s what Ed said, too!”

“Nevi—“

But Harry froze mid-sentence, just now taking in what Neville had just said.

“Ed?” inquired Hermione. “What about Ed, have you seen him?”

“He’s the one who put me into the Leg-Locker Curse,” said Neville. “He said something about going to get something, and that it was none of my business what exactly it was.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other in horror.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Harry said. Ron nodded, and outraged look on his face.

“I can’t believe this; he had us fooled, _completely fooled_ , and now—!!”

“He’s off to get the Stone himself!” Hermione said with horror.

“ _Exactly_!!”

“But what on earth would Edward need it for?”

“Does it matter?” asked Harry darkly. “We have to stop him regardless of his reasons.”

Hermione nodded once then turned to Neville:

“This just got very serious, Neville, you have to let us go.”

“I won’t! I won’t let you do it,” he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. “I’ll—I’ll fight you!”

“ _Neville_ ,” Ron exploded, “get away from that hole and don’t be an idiot—!”

“Don’t you call me an idiot!” said Neville. “I don’t think you should be breaking any more rules! And you all were the ones who told me to stand up to people!”

“Yes, but not to _us_ ,” said Ron in exasperation. “Neville, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

He took a threatening step forward.

“Go on then, try and hit me!” said Neville, raising his fists. “I’m ready!”

Hermione intervened, biting her lip.

“Neville,” she said, “I’m really, really sorry about this.”

She raised her wand.

“ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ” she cried, pointing it at Neville.

The effect was immediate; Neville’s arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board.

Hermione ran to turn him over. Neville’s jaws were jammed together so he couldn’t speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at them in horror.

“What’ve you done to him?” Harry whispered.

“It’s the full Body-Bind,” said Hermione miserably. “Oh, Neville, I’m so sorry.”

“We had to, Neville; we have to stop Ed,” said Harry.

“You’ll understand later, Neville,” said Ron as they stepped over him and pulled on the invisibility cloak.

Once they were outside the common room and in the hallway, they looked at each other nervously.

“I still don’t understand why Ed would do this to us,” whispered Hermione. “I thought we were his friends…”

Harry sighed.

“So did I.”

A clock struck somewhere further down the hall, sparking up their pulses and initiating their much-needed adrenaline.

“…We’d better run if we want to make it in time,” Harry spoke one last time. “For all we know, Ed could already be well past Fluffy and through the trapdoor.”

 

~~*e.s.*~~


	13. The Wizard and The Alchemist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intensity. It is here now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Chapter Twelve: The Wizard and The Alchemist~

 

Edward stood before the third-floor corridor, feeling nothing but pure determination toward the act he was about to commit. His brother needed him to do this, he knew it; at this point it was essential that he forget about his new friends and eradicate all of the guilt he bore for lying to them. The whole reason he came to Hogwarts in the first place was for this stone anyway. He had followed his gut, and it did not fail him; at last, he was going to get his hands on the Philosopher’s stone. _This_ , what he was about to do, was for Al’s life. With one last long, deep breath held his wand steady and whispered the incantation that unlocked the door and stepped into the gloom gingerly, careful not to set off the three-headed beast…

Just a few measly minutes later Harry, Ron and Hermione caught up with the sneaky alchemist. They pulled the invisibility cloak off of them and stuffed it into Harry’s robes before Hermione raised her wand to the doorknob. Before she could utter _Alohomora_ , however, Harry stopped her.

“Try it first; it’ll be open already if Ed’s in there.”

“…Right.”

Sure enough, the doorknob was unlocked when Hermione turned it. She nervously looked back at Ron and Harry, who nodded for her to enter. Sure enough, Fluffy was fast asleep, and the first thing they saw upon entering the forbidden corridor was Edward Elric.

“What the—what are _you_ doing here?!” Ed demanded, pointing his wand at the trio. Harry and Ron already had their wands aimed at the traitor, however, so Ed dared not try anything just yet. They would have to give him a reason to fight first. _If they think they can stop me from getting the Stone, they are sorely mistaken!_

“We came to get protect the stone, of course,” Harry growled, his glower unfaltering as Ed set his jaw angrily. “We knew you’d be here because of what you did to Neville.”

“Dammit,” Ed muttered under his breath. He should’ve put some sort of muting charm on the boy too.

“How could you do that to us?!” Ron exclaimed.

“Shut up, you’ll wake the damn dog up!” Ed hissed, gesturing towards the drooling creature. Harry looked over his shoulder at the source of the music they could hear in the air and saw an enchanted harp, playing all by itself in the far corner of the room.

“How did you bring that in here without getting caught?” Hermione whispered. Ed shook his head:

“I didn’t; someone got here before I did and put the thing asleep.”

“Snape,” Harry said immediately. “He’s already got past Fluffy.”

Ed rolled his eyes at everyone’s grave expressions: “I still don’t think it’s Snape.”

“Nobody cares what you think, traitor!” Ron spat at him, his hand bearing his wand shaking with fury. “You lied to us! All three of us! We were supposed to be your _friends_!”

“I know,” Edward replied, his voice a decibel softer than it was before. “I had to, though. I need the stone.”

“Why, what _for_?” Harry asked disbelievingly. Ed huffed, angrily shaking his head.

“I can’t tell you.”

Ron didn’t buy it, however and continued on with his chastising:

“All this time, we thought you were trying to help, when actually you were just taking advantage of our information!”

“That’s not true,” Harry pointed out gravely. “Ed’s smart. He’s been holding out on us if anything. He’s probably had this entire thing figured out for months now…and by the looks of it he’s got a good idea of what lies beyond that trapdoor, too, or else who wouldn’t have been stupid enough to come at all...”

Harry shook his head, his emerald eyes glaring into Ed’s face, bearing feeling of anger, fury and…sorrow?

“…I trusted you, Ed!” he said with a broken voice. “I put all of my trust in you, believed that you were trying to help us, that you were my friend. And then you go and pull this kind of trick on us??”

Ed blinked, and then shrugged in reply. At the moment he really couldn’t come up with a better comeback then that.

“Don’t you play stupid either,” he spat back at them suddenly. “You’re lying. None of you completely trusted me. You say one thing but know you mean another. You’ve all been suspicious of me the entire time—especially you, Harry! I saw that look you gave me that first night, when I was almost sorted into Slytherin. Now you’re probably wishing I had been!”

“I bet the Sorting Hat is thinking the same exact thing, too!”

Ed let out a guttural growl; he was losing precious time in this argument; he lifted his wand even higher:

“ _Incarcerous_ —!”

“ _Protego_!”

“DAMMIT,” Ed cursed when his own curse was deflected by Hermione’s shield, holding out her wand with one hand and restraining Ron the best she could with the other. Harry was grabbing hold of Ron’s robes as well, gritting his teeth against the redhead’s struggling. In the midst of them holding they’re pissed-off friend back, however, Harry couldn’t help but be impressed with Hermione yet again.

“Where’d you learn that shield spell from?” he inquired.

“I figured, seeing as we have no idea what we’ll be facing tonight, that I’d better read up on some defensive spells. I found ‘ _protego_ ’ in a book I had borrowed,” she replied, then winced. “I saw Ed reading that same book in the library the other day, actually, now that I think about it…”

“Let me at him, let me punch the bastard’s teeth out!!”

Ed laughed out loud and opened his mouth to sarcastically respond to Ron’s threats, but froze mid-sentence. He listened carefully, holding a finger up to the three angry people in front of him, hoping that they’ll shut up for once. He slowly turned around and blanched at what he saw.

“Does it seem a bit quiet…?” he heard Harry whisper to Hermione. Ed did not look back at them as he spoke:

“The harp…it stopped playing for some reason.”

There was a pause…and then a large drop of drool landed upon Ron’s unsuspecting shoulder.

“Ew! _Yuck_!”

“R-Ron…”

All four of them looked up, and they’re eyes widened as three sets of sickly yellow eyes stared back down at them. They screamed, diving in different directions away from the beast as it barked and growled, thrashing about in its chains. It broke the harp and dove at them just after they had scattered; Edward slid beneath the dog’s huge belly and tossed the trapdoor open. He swung one leg over the edge and stopped for a moment. He could just leave them all to the dog, and then he wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore. He could focus on getting the Stone for Al, with no one in the way…but then again, he had betrayed them enough, had he not? After all, at more than one point during his stay at Hogwarts, he truly did consider them trio to be his friends.

“Ron! Harry, Hermione, over here! Hurry!”

“Jump!” Hermione called over. “We’ll follow!”

Ed nodded, jumping feet first into the gloom and landing with a funny, muffled sort of thump on top of something soft and slightly damp. Three more thumps immediately followed Ed’s; Ron sat up next to Ed.

“What is this stuff?” were his first words.

“Dunno, some sort of plant thing,” Harry said, poking at the substance curiously. Ed did the same, though he approached it more carefully that the scarred boy. Whatever the stuff was he doubted it was for cushioning.

“We must be miles under the school judging by how long of a drop that was,” Hermione remarked.

“Yeah, lucky this plant thing’s here, really—“

“ _Lucky!_ ” shrieked Hermione. Ed’s eyes widened too:

“Ron, look!”

“AUGH!” Ron yelped, and Harry also jerked in surprise. The plant that had just cushioned their falls suddenly began to twist snakelike tendrils around their arms and legs. Ed looked down and made to move unsuccessfully just as his legs became bound tightly in the long creepers. _Shit!_ he soundlessly panicked. _This must be Professor Sprout’s trap!_ Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her; now she watched in horror as the three boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.

“Stop moving!” Hermione ordered them. “I know what this is—it’s a Devil’s Snare!”

“Oh, I’m so glad we know what it’s called, that’s a great help,” snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck. Ed, on the other hand, heard the plant’s name and rapidly wracked his brain for facts and figures pertaining to it.

“…I can’t remember how to kill it!” Ed yelled at Hermione.

“Neither can I! Um, ok, give me a second…”

“I don’t think we have a second, Hermione!!”

“Hurry up, you two, I can’t breathe!” Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest. Ed opened his mouth to snap back at him, but froze.

“…I remember now, hold still!” Ed told Harry and Ron. “Relax and it’ll let you go!”

“ _Relax_??” Ron yelled. “Have you gone _mad_?!”

Ed ignored him as he released all of the tension from his entangled body, taking slow deep breaths…and then grinned as soon as he was released right after Hermione. Harry saw this success and desperately followed suite. He landed on the ground hard, then scrambled up and ran over to Hermione and Ed, gasping to regain the air he had lost when strangled by the demon plant.

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked concernedly. Harry nodded, glancing at Ed in between gasps. The three of them looked back at Ron, who was still writhing and screaming in the plant’s clutches.

“Help!”

“He’s not relaxing, is he?” Hermione said faintly.

“Apparently not,” Harry remarked. Ed stamped his foot frustratingly:

“If only we could remember how to kill the damn thing!”

“Help! _Help me!!_ ”

“Ummm…uh,” Hermione muttered, equally as frustrated. “Let me see, Devil's Snare, Devil's Scare…it's deadly fun...but will sulk in the sun! That's it! Devil's Snare hates sunlight!”

“So light a fire!” Harry said. “Hurry, Ron’s choking!”

“Yes—of course—b-but there’s no wood!” Hermione cried, wringing her hands.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MINE?” Ed bellowed, waving his arms like a raving lunatic. “ARE YOU A FREAKING WITCH OR NOT?!”

“Oh, right!” said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand:

“ _Lumus Solem!_ ”

A great burst of light gave forth from her wand, making the plant cringe, dropping Ron as it skulked away into the shadows. The three of them ran over and helped the gasping Ron back up to his feet.

“Are you ok?” Harry asked. “Lucky for us Hermione and Ed paid attention in Herbology.”

Ron rolled his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, “and lucky Ed doesn’t lose his head in a crisis—‘there’s no wood,’ _honestly_ , Hermione!”

“Well, I’m _so sorry_ for rescuing you!” Hermione said, crossing her arms at the redhead. Ed also crossed his arms:

“I thought I was a bastard,” he remarked sarcastically. Ron opened his mouth to snarl a nasty comeback at the blonde…but stopped himself. He frowned slightly and sighed in admittance:

“You are…but you’re also a bastard that just saved our lives. Harry and I would be dead now if it weren’t for you and Hermione.”

Ed blinked in surprise, but did not reply; all they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls.

“So now what, Ed,” Harry inquired, “you’re either with us or against us from here on out.”

“What, you mean you all are going on?” said the blonde with mild shock. “Why go through that just for a stone you’re not even going to use?”

“To keep it from Voldemort! Did you even _listen_ to us this entire year?” Harry exclaimed. “And apparently to keep it from you now, too, especially since we don’t even know what you want it for. I don’t even know where to begin guessing about that; it’s like everything we thought we knew about you is a lie.”

“Not _everything_ ,” Ed said. “No need to over-dramatize this.”

“Then just tell us what you want the Sorcerer’s Stone for, Edward!” Hermione pleaded alongside Harry.

Ed stared at Harry for a long moment after that, though he did not necessarily truly see him. Instead he was remembering the night he got to talk to Alphonse in person, that day Dumbledore and McGonagall sent him to Hogwarts to visit the troubled boy. He knew even back then that the stone was at Hogwarts, and he knew after seeing Al again that he had to find a way to retrieve it for him.   _“We’re so close…” “And yet so far away…yeah, I know, Al. It’s killing me, too.” “Brother—““No; don’t. Professor Dumbledore already tried to tell me last night that what happened wasn’t my fault. I know that’s not the truth, though, Alphonse.”_ That conversation had re-appeared again and again in his dreams since that night, posing as his purpose for betraying Harry, Ron and Hermione. He wished he could tell them and set everything straight, but at this point not only was it questionable whether or not they’d even believe him, but he knew that it would be a very dangerous move to reveal his secret on Hogwarts ground. On top of all that did they really need to know the Elric’s deep, dark secret? Did he really even _want_ to leave himself wide open to them? They deserved to know, they had trusted him this entire time…unless they were all playing the same exact game as he was… _no. They were genuinely shocked about my lies. They wouldn’t have even thought about doing the same_.

Little did Edward know that Harry Potter was thinking about that exact same night, but in an entirely different light. The conversation that he had eavesdropped upon had never left his memory, and in this moment more than ever he wondered over what the last words he had heard meant.   _“But dammit, Al, what if I fail?? What if you end up stuck like this forever, and all because of a stupid decision—a fucking evil idea on my part?!”_ What decision could’ve led Ed to _tears_? What happened to Al that makes Ed have to steal an all-powerful magical object like the Sorcerer’s Stone to fix? He wanted to ask him these questions right then and there while they were all in the forbidden corridor, but then that would mean Harry would have to admit that he had eavesdropped upon the Elric brothers. That would just put him in the same position as the treacherous Elric standing before him.

“I already told you all, I can’t—I _won’t_ tell you,” Ed spoke with finality.

Harry expected this reaction.

“So you’re against us.”

It wasn’t a question. Hermione feebly cleared her throat before she spoke:

“Let’s just keep going; the more we stop and argue like this the closer Snape is getting to the stone. We should worry more about him than Ed since Ed’s with us, at least.”

“I’m right here, y’know,” Ed muttered under his breath. “I can hear every word you’re saying.”

The passageway sloped downward, making it look even more dark and dank than it already was.

“Can you hear something?” Ed said, quickly bringing his speaking voice down to a low hiss.

Harry listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.

“Do you think it’s a ghost?” questioned Ron. Ed shook his head:

“Why would ghosts hang around here?”

“Maybe Dumbledore set them up here as protectors for the Stone,” Harry suggested, though without any enthusiasm. The alchemist was right; no ghost would willingly spend his afterlife guarding a stone that was practically useless to them. “I don’t know, it sounds like wings to me.”

“There’s a light up ahead,” Hermione pointed out, “I can see something moving.”

They reached the end of the passageway after a few more moments of silent stalking and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

“Do you think they’ll attack us if we cross the room?” said Ron.

“Probably,” said Harry. “They don’t look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swopped down at once…well, there’s no other choice…I’ll run.”

He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. He expected to feel sharp beaks tearing at him any second, but nothing happened. He reached the door untouched. He pulled at the handle but it was locked.

The other three followed him. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn’t budge, not even when Hermione tried her _Alohomora_ charm. Ed was particularly frustrated at this for he knew a solution he could’ve used if he was alone. It would be easy for him to clap his hands and make a brand new, unlocked door out of the wall beside the locked exit, but he wasn’t about to pull that stunt in front of three witnesses.

“Now what?” said Ron.

“These birds…they can’t be here just for decoration,” said Hermione.

Ed rolled his eyes and joined them in watching the birds soaring overhead, glittering— _glittering?_

“They’re not birds!” Ed said suddenly. “They’re _keys_! Winged keys—look carefully.”

“You’re right!” Hermione said in surprise, squinting up at their odd shapes. Harry looked around the room.

“So that must mean…yes.”

“What?” questioned Ron.

“Look! Broomsticks! We’ve got to catch the key to the door!”

“But there are _hundreds_ of them!” said Hermione. Ron turned and examined the lock on the door.

“We’re looking for a big, old-fashioned one—probably silver, like the handle.”

They each seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, Ed a tiny bit shakier than the others due to his lack of faith in the flying brooms. Once he got a good, steely grip upon the handle he too was soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. They grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch a single one.

They were all relying on Harry, the youngest Seeker in a century on one of the House Quidditch teams, for he had a true knack for spotting things other people didn’t. After a minute’s weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, he noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.

“That one!” he called to the others. “That big one—there—no, there—with the bright blue wings—the feathers are all crumpled on one side.”

Ed spotted it and went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and fell halfway off his broom. “Dammit!” he yelled as he pulled himself back onto the handle and blew his bangs out of his eyes. “I hate broomsticks!”

“We’ve got to close in on it!” Harry called, not taking his eyes off the key with the damaged wing. “Ed, you come at it from above—Ron, you from the side—Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down—and I’ll try to catch it. Right…NOW!”

Ed dived, Hermione rocketed upward, Ron swerved, and the key dodged all three of them while Harry streaked after it. It sped toward the wall, and Harry leaned forward and, with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Ron, Ed and Hermione’s cheers echoed around the high chamber.

They landed quickly, Ed’s touch-down more of a face plant than a landing, and Harry ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned—it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

“Ok,” Ed spoke to himself as they stepped through the door. “The dog was Hagrid’s, the Devil’s Snare Sprout’s, and the key-birds must’ve been Flitwick’s. We have Snape, Quirrell, Dumbledore, and McGonagall’s left.”

The next chamber was so dark they couldn’t see anything at all…but as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

“I think we’ve just found McGonagall’s,” Hermione squeaked at Ed.

The four of them were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessman, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, Ron and Hermione shivered slightly—the towering white chessmen had no faces.

“Now what do we do?” Harry whispered.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” said Ron. “We’ve got to play our way across the room.”

Sure enough, behind the white pieces Ed did in fact see another door.

“How?” said Hermione nervously. Ed looked sideways over at Ron.

“I don’t like where this is going…”

“I know,” said Ron, “but I think we’re going to have to be chessmen.”

He nervously walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight’s horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.

“Do we—er—have to join you to get across?”

The black knight nodded its monstrous head. Ron turned to the other three.

“This takes thinking about…” he said.

“Yeah,” Ed agreed. “We’d better take the place of three black pieces that are least likely to be taken.”

“Right.”

“Wait,” Hermione began faintly. “Do you mean to say that this will be like _wizard’s chess_?”

“Duh,” retorted Ed. “That’s why he has to think carefully about this. It wouldn’t do us any good if one of us got destroyed, would it?”

Harry and Hermione stayed quiet after that, watching Ron think. Finally he said, “Now, don’t be offended or anything, but none of you are really that good at chess—“

“We’re not offended,” said Harry quickly. Ed frowned:

“Well, maybe a _little_.”

“Shut _up_ , Ed,” Hermione hissed. Ron ignored the exchange:

“Harry, you take the place of that bishop, Hermione, you go next to him instead of that castle, and Ed, you go take the other rook.”

“What about you?” the blonde questioned.

“I’m going to be a knight,” said Ron, looking back up at the horse next to him.

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words the knight, a bishop, and the rooks turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving three empty squares that Harry, Ron, Ed, and Hermione took.

“White always moves first…” said Ron, peering across the board. Sure enough just as he said it, a white pawn moved forward two squares.

Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Ed became more and more nervous as the game continued; not that he was an extremely bad chess player or anything, but if he were still going at this alone, there would’ve been a high chance that his endeavor would’ve ended here.

“Harry—move diagonally four spaces to the right.”

Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.

“Had to let that happen,” said Ron, looking shaken. “Leaves you free to take that bishop, Ed, go on.”

Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Ed and Harry were in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

“We’re nearly there,” he muttered suddenly. “Let me think—let me think…”

The white queen turned her blank face toward him.

“Yes…” said Ron softly, “it’s the only way. I’ve got to be taken.”

“NO!” Harry, Ed and Hermione shouted.

“That’s chess!” snapped Ron. “You’ve got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she’ll take me—that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Ed! In order to get that, something of equal value must be lost: me.”

Ed’s jaw dropped at Ron’s last words; he practically just recited the Law of Equivalent Exchange, alchemy’s most basic and yet most important law.

“But—“

“Do you want to stop Snape or not?”

“Ron—“

“Look, if you don’t hurry up, he’ll already have the Stone!”

“Ron’s right,” Ed piped up. “There’s no alternative.”

Ron nodded, looking Ed in the eye. A silent exchange was passed between them in this look, one that was not only apologetic on Ed’s part, but more importantly unconditionally forgiving on Ron’s part. Once again the freckled redhead was Ed’s friend, no matter the lies that had been passed between them throughout their first year at Hogwarts. It was just like the first encounter at Eeylops all over again.

“Give Snape a good punch to the hooked nose for me, alright Ed?”

Ed grinned and nodded. Ron turned back to face the white queen.

“Don’t hang around once you’ve won.”

He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor—Hermione screamed—the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he’d been knocked out. Harry looked equally as unraveled as Hermione did, but Ed’s face remained as hard as stone. Hermione made to run over toward Ron—

“NO,” Ed shouted at her. “Don’t move! Remember, we’re still playing.”

Once he was sure she was staying right where she was, Ed took one last deep breath and moved three spaces to the left, looking the white king straight in its eerie blank face.

“Checkmate.”

There was a paused, and then the white king took off his crown and threw it as Ed’s feet. They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, the three of them charged through the door and up the next passageway.

“What if he’s—?”

“He’ll be all right,” said Harry, trying to convince himself. He turned to Ed:

“You have all of this figured out; what do you reckon’s next?”

Ed ticked off the teachers from his fingers:

“…all that’s left is Quirrell’s, Snape’s and Dumbledore’s, which means that there will be something related to Potions and the Dark Arts left for sure.”

“What about Dumbledore’s?” Hermione scrutinized. “Have you any idea on what his might be?”

Ed shook his head:

“No idea. He’s the only one I couldn’t figure out.”

Even as he said this, though, Ed was yet again lying, for he was certain that the Mirror of Erised would be present in the last chamber.

“With good reason; Dumbledore’s a mystery,” Harry conceded.

They had reached another door; as soon as Ed pushed it open, a disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making the trio pull their robes up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head.

“This must be Quirrell’s,” Ed stated. “Remember Halloween, the way he reacted to that troll? He must’ve thought that it was a good threat.”

“I’m glad we didn’t have to fight that one,” Harry whispered as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. “Come on, I can’t breathe.”

Ed looked with dismay at the troll; _I would’ve actually looked forward to having a go at the stupid thing…_

Harry pulled open the next door,  hardly daring to look at what came next—but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

“Snape’s,” said Ed, and he turned back towards Harry and Hermione.

“What do we have to do?” said the scarred boy.

They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn’t ordinary fire, either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.

“Look!” Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles and read aloud:

_“Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choir, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.”_

Hermione let out a great sigh and Harry and Ed, amazed, saw that she was smiling, the very last thing either of them felt like doing.

“ _Brilliant_ ,” said Hermione. “This isn’t magic—it’s logic—a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic; they’d be stuck in here forever.”

“But so will we, won’t we?” said Harry.

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Ed remarked, pushing past Harry to get a better look at the clues. “Don’t be so unconfident, we have everything we need! Let me see that paper, Hermione.”

“Seven bottles,” Hermione recited while Ed re-read the riddle. “Three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple.”

“But how do we know which to drink?” Harry asked.

“Give us a minute,” Hermione said, looking over the paper with Ed again, muttering back and forth with the bright Elric brother. Occasionally one of them would walk up and down the line of bottles, muttering to themselves and pointing at them. At last Hermione clapped her hands.

“Got it,” they said in unison, then grinned at each other.

“The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire—toward the Philosopher’s Stone,” Ed announced.

Harry and Hermione stared at him.

“You mean Sorcerer’s Stone?” Hermione asked the blonde. Ed gulped, and then nodded, unsuccessfully attempting to laugh of his mistake. Harry looked at the tiny bottle, picking it up and swishing its contents around next to his ear.

“There’s only enough there for about two swallows,” he said. “That’ll be barely enough for two of us, let alone three.”

They looked at each other.

“Who goes back?” Ed asked. Harry remained silent but continued to stare at Edward; it was obvious that he wished for the traitor to go, so as to guarantee the Stone’s safety. Hermione had a different plan, however; she walked over to the table and picked up a rounded bottle at the right end of the line.

“This one will get someone back through the purple flames…”

She looked up at the boys.

“I’ll drink this; Harry, you take Ed with you and stop Snape.”

“But Hermione—“

“No buts; _I_ trust Ed and so should you!”

Ed blinked back his surprised; _what just happened here?_

“How can you trust him? After all he’s lied to us—“

“It must’ve been for a good reason or else he wouldn’t have done that,” Hermione spoke quietly, looking up at Ed. “Am I right?”

Ed could feel his heart pounding in his chest; after everything he did to them, Ron and Hermione still forgave him and still wished to remain friends. How was he supposed to respond to that?

“…Yes. I don’t want the Stone for myself; I want it…”

_For my brother._

“…for a cause far greater than my own.”

Hermione nodded:

“Then I trust you, Ed.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest once again, but stopped himself. He trusted Hermione’s wit more than his own instinct; if she trusted Ed then he must be on their side. Besides, if Voldemort is in there with Snape, Harry will need all the back-up he can get. Relying on the same luck that saved his life as a baby didn’t seem like enough to cut it.

Hermione’s lip began to tremble as she looked at the two of them, and she suddenly dashed at Ed and threw her arms around him.

“Wha—?!” Ed began, but she cut him off.

“You’ve been a great friend this entire year, Ed. I’m so glad you’re in Gryffindor with us, _so_ glad I met you.”

Ed’s blush slowly formed into a small smile:

“Same here, Hermione. Thanks.”

She then attacked Harry:

“Harry—you’re a great wizard, you know.”

“I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him.

“Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things—friendship and bravery and—oh Harry, Ed—be _careful_!”

“We will,” Ed said, waving off her concern. “Don’t you be worried about us; you need to get back and get Ron.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “And once you two are out of the corridor, send either Hedwig or Nova, whichever one’s awake, to Dumbledore. We need him.”

“Right.”

“You drink first; you two are sure which is which, aren’t you?”

“Positive,” said Hermione. She took a long drink from the round bottle, and shuddered.

“It’s not poison, right?” said Harry anxiously.

“No—but it’s like ice.”

“Quick, go,” said Ed, “before it wears off.”

“Good luck—take care—“

“GO!” the boys shouted in unison.

Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire.

Harry and Ed looked at each other.

“Well…” Harry said, taking the small bottle from the table. “Here goes nothing.”

He took a swig and passed it to the alchemist, who drained the little bottle in one gulp. It was indeed as though ice was flooding hid body, Edward thought as he made to pass through the dark, menacing wall of fire. He braced himself, saw the black flames licking his body, but could not feel them—for a moment he could see nothing but dark fire—the he was on the other side, in the last chamber. There was already someone there—but it wasn’t Snape. It wasn’t even Voldemort.

It was Quirrell.

“ _You_?” gasped Harry.

“You!” growled Ed.

Quirrell turned and smiled. His face wasn’t twitching at all.

“Me,” he said calmly. “Knew I’d be meeting you here, Elric, and I’m none too surprised to see you as well, Potter.”

Ed had to stop himself from asking Quirrell how he knew Ed would go after the Stone, for he knew that Quirrell would answer truthfully and therefore reveal his secret to the unsuspecting Harry…wait. Did it really matter anymore? Now that there was a far more experienced wizard in front of him, standing between him and the Sorcerer’s Stone, he would _need_ to use alchemy, or else he would not stand a chance of beating him. This was the point of no return, the point when the truth would have to come out in order for Ed’s goal to be achieved. He took a deep breath, for he could already feel the spectacled boy’s green eyes boring into the side of his head and had to work to keep from succumbing under the accusing gaze.

“You know.”

It wasn’t a question, but Quirrell was more than happy to answer the boy.

“Of course I know; I don’t think any of the Professors _don’t_ know. Those who weren’t told directly of you dark past heard the story through the grapevine, Elric. You have no secrets here.”

“…What’s he talking about, Ed?” Harry questioned, trying hard to keep his voice from shaking. Ed ignored him and focused on Quirrell still:

“Not only that but I met some...people in the forest. They seemed very interested in keeping a watch upon one of the students. My guess is that they were looking for _you_.”

“Yeah, they told me to tell you they said hello,” Ed sneered. “You must have made an impression on them.”

“Nothing like the impression they left on you though, right Mr. Elric? After all, they threatened you brother…and isn’t he the whole reason you’re here in the first place?”

Ed flinched, utilizing every ounce of his willpower to not look at Harry, making Quirrell laugh with sick pleasure:

“You mean you haven’t told them? Potter has followed you all this way for an unknown reason?”

“I meant to come alone,” said Ed. “That stone belongs to me!”

“This shall be interesting then…”

“You shut your mouth,” Ed growled in warning. Harry shook his head:

“But I thought,” he stuttered in confusion. “Snape—“

“Severus?” Quirrell laughed, and it wasn’t his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. “Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn’t he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?”

Harry couldn’t seem to be able to take it in; to him, this all couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. Ed remained silent though, listening carefully to the treacherous wizard, hoping he’ll let something that’ll help lead to his downfall in his evil monologue.

“But Snape tried to kill me!” Harry suddenly yelled.

“No, no, no. _I_ tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I’d have you off that broom. I’d have managed it before then if Snape hadn’t been muttering a counter-curse, trying to save you.”

“Snape was trying to _save_ me?”

“That doesn’t sound like the bastard at all,” Ed remarked, raising his eyebrows at the idea. “Huh.”

“Of course,” said Quirrell coolly. “Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn’t do it again. Funny, really…he needn’t have bothered. I couldn’t do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he _did_ make himself unpopular…and what a waste of time, when after all that, I’m going to kill you tonight.”

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry.

“You’re too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you’d seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone.”

“ _You_ let the troll in?” Harry gasped. Ed’s glare turned icy; _I knew it!_

“Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls—you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off—and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s leg off properly.”

Quirrell smirked:

“It’s funny…Severus suspected you all along, too, Elric.”

Ed’s eyes widened at this piece of information; no wonder the Potion’s master hated him so much! He knew all along about Ed’s dark past and of his criminal plans to fix it.

“Now, wait quietly, you two. I need to examine this interesting mirror.”

It was only then that Harry and Ed realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.

“…That’s the key to the Stone,” Ed whispered to Harry. “Somehow, Dumbledore must’ve put it in the mirror. We’ve got to keep Quirrell from figuring it out.”

“Why, so you can get it instead?” Harry hissed. Ed rolled his eyes:

“Now’s not the time for that! Would you rather me have it, or _him_??”

“Fair enough…all I can think of doing is to keep him talking and stop him from concentrating.”

“Good enough,” Ed nodded, and then cleared his throat:

“We saw you and Snape in the forest—“

“Yes,” said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. “He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me—as thought he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side….”

“Lord Voldemort…” Ed whispered, frowning slightly. “Where have I heard that name before?”

“Are you _joking_??” Harry remarked. “He’s the whole reason my parents are dead, and that those unicorns are dead, and that Quirrell’s here! How could you forget him?!”

“Sorry! It’s just such a forgettable name to me.”

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it.

“I see the Stone…I’m presenting it to my master…but where is it?”

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn’t give. Ed followed suite but came down to a similar result. He racked his brain for a plan b and came up with one rather quickly…but it involved using alchemy. He _had_ to get in front of that mirror somehow, _had_ to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the enchanted glass…

“…Fuck it.”

Edward completely ignored Harry as he managed to wriggle his hands free from the binds and clapped them together. With the burst of light from the transmutation, Edward slapped his left hand upon his automail arm, ripping up his glove and his sleeve as he transmuted the steel into a blade. He took no time to relish in this exhibition of alchemy, nor did he dare look towards Harry; with the blade he rapidly ripped through his binds and leapt to his feet, sprinting over to the mirror and roughly shoving Quirrell away from his reflection. There in the mirror he could see himself restored back to his original self, standing next to a very human Alphonse. The golden eyes within the reflection shined in the firelight…but the Sorcerer’s Stone was nowhere to be found. Ed furrowed his brow, patting at his pockets in confusion.

“…Where is it?” he whispered to himself, his mind racing. _What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment is to find the Stone so I can use it to restore Alphonse’s body. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it, meaning that I’ll see where it’s hidden! But where.is.it?!_

“Move, Elric!” Quirrell roared as he shoved into the boy, causing him to stumble away from his spot in front to the mirror, making his reflection and the image of Alphonse disappear into smoke. Ed gritted his teeth and lunged back at the professor, but was shot back by a shield charm silently cast without Ed’s knowing.

“Give it up,” Quirrell said nastily, looking down upon the boy with evil distaste.

“Never!” Ed yelled, clapping his hands together and slamming them down upon the stone floor. The effect was immediate; huge spikey stone spikes protruded from the ground and made their way across toward where Quirrell stood. But the shield charm was still there; the spikes slammed into the invisible wall and ceased to be right before they got the chance to maim Quirrell.

“Damn,” Ed cursed, his antenna drooping slightly. He was running out of options already, and to his great frustration, Quirrell was back to ignoring him and focusing in on the mirror.

“…What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!”

 _Master?_ Ed thought, looking at Quirrell with confusion. To his horror, however, a voice actually answered him, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

“Use the boy…Use the boy…”

Quirrell paused for a moment, and then rounded on Harry.

“Potter!”

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry fell off.

“…Come here.”

Harry slowly got to his feet, and when Edward looked up at him, he could see the fear and disbelief in his green eyes.

“Come here,” Quirrell repeated. “Look in the mirror and tell me what you see.”

Harry broke eye contact with the alchemist and walked toward him. Quirrell moved close behind him, and Harry breathed in a funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell’s turban. He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again.

Ed’s breath suddenly caught in his throat; he had just realized what Dumbledore was getting at with this mirror. Of course the old man wasn’t going to let just anyone who desired the stone get ahold of it through that reflection; it would have to go to someone who did not desire to use it on themselves. This assumption made him frown, though, for why wouldn’t he had been able to get it? He didn’t want the stone for himself, not at all, he just wanted to get Alphonse’s body back…

Unless the stone would only appear to someone who doesn’t want to use it at all.

“Well?” said Quirrell impatiently. “What do you see?”

Ed watched Harry screw up his courage.

“I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore,” he spoke. “I—I’ve won the house cup for Gryffindor.”

Quirrell cursed again.

“Get out of the way,” he said. As Harry moved aside, Ed focused in on his pockets…and saw a rock-shaped bulge in his right pant leg. Ed jumped to his feet, eyeing it ravenously; Harry had the Sorcerer’s Stone. But he hadn’t walked five paces before a high, hissing voice spoke.

“HE LIES…”

“Potter, come back here!” Quirrell shouted. “Tell me the truth! What did you see?!”

The creepy voice spoke again.

“Let me speak to him…face-to-face…”

Quirrell’s eyes widened as he looked up at his turban. Ed raised an eyebrow; _what the hell is going on here_ …?

“Master, you are not strong enough!”

“I have strength enough…for this…”

Ed looked back and forth from Quirrell to Harry, who looked absolutely rooted to the spot. He watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away. Quirrell’s head looked strangely small without it…then he turned slowly on the spot. Harry and Ed’s jaws dropped. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell’s head, there was a face, the most ugly, terrible face either of the boys had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

“…and I thought Malfoy was pale,” was all Ed could think of saying. The face ignored him, instead looking straight at Harry.

“Harry Potter…” it whispered.

Harry still did not move.

“See what I have become?” the face said. “Mere shadow and vapor…I have form only when I can share another’s body…but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds…Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks…you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest…and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own…Now…why don’t you give me that Stone in your pocket.”

So he knew. Ed’s eyes narrowed threateningly as Harry stumbled.

“Don’t you dare, Harry!” the alchemist yelled.

“Don’t be a fool,” snarled the face. “Better save your own life and join me…or you’ll meet the same end as your parents…They died begging me for mercy…”

“LIAR!” Harry shouted suddenly.

Quirrell was walking backward at them, so that Voldemort could still see. The evil face was now smiling.

“How touching…” it hissed. “I always value bravery…Yes, boy, your parents were brave…I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight…but your mother needn’t have died…she was trying to protect you…Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain.”

“NEVER!” Harry roared, thrusting his hand into his pocket, securing the Stone within his grip. He glanced over his shoulder at Edward, who was desperately trying to get him to look at him. He made to spring toward the flame door, but at the last second tore the Stone out of his pocket and threw it into Ed’s hands. Quirrell turned sharply, allowing Voldemort to glower at him with pure hatred.

“Edward Elric…spawn of Hohenheim, correct?”

Ed stood his ground, refusing to look the least bit uneasy about talking to the back of a man’s head as he stuffed the Stone back into his pant pocket.

“What is it to you?”

“It is _everything_ to me…just like that Stone is to you…”

Ed wrinkled his nose: “Don’t compare me to you; at least I have a body!”

“Yes you do, incomplete as it is…yes, Professor Quirrell here has told me all about you…you could make a valuable asset, you know.”

Ed stared, and then raised an eyebrow at the twisted face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It does not matter at this moment…all that matters now is that you _give me the Stone_!”

“ _NO_!”

At once Quirrell lunged, but Ed was far too quick to be taken down so easily. He ran across the room away from the dark wizard, keeping one hand upon his pocket, as if the Stone was a crutch of some sort for him to rely on. When he looked up from doing this, however, he could not see Quirrell or Voldemort anywhere. Harry looked equally as perplexed as Ed, looking around the room for the pair. When they finally appeared it was as if smoke materialized into flesh and bone, for they randomly appeared right behind Ed, causing a yell of surprise to emit from his throat.

“Ed! Toss it here!”

“But—“

“JUST DO IT!”

Quirrell’s hand gripped at Ed’s shoulder; Ed swung his automail fist around and slugged the wizard straight in the jaw, freeing his shoulder; he reluctantly obliged Harry and extracted the precious Sorcerer’s Stone from his pocket, tossing it away from his possession into the free hands of Harry Potter.

The next second Harry felt Quirrell materialize behind him. His hand closed around Harry’s wrists, and at once a needle-sharp pain seared across Harry’s scar. His head felt as though it was about to split in two; he yelled, struggling with all his might. Ed was there just as the pain in Harry’s scar practically blinded the boy and leapt on top of Quirrell, dragging the man down to the ground. He re-transmuted his automail into a blade once more and made to go in for another attack—but at the flick of his wrist, Quirrell placed another shield charm in front of him, causing Edward to run face-first into the invisible force field. While he quickly picked himself back up, Quirrell approached the blonde boy and wrapped his spider-like fingers around his steel arm, bring his other palm to hover over the prosthetic. When he felt Quirrell’s spindly hand Ed rapidly swung his automail leg up and into Quirrell’s jaw. He staggered back, relinquishing his grip on the alchemist’s arm. Ed wasted no time in the fight, clapping his hands together furiously…

“…AAAAAAAAAUGHHH!!”

Quirrell rose, one hand still clasping onto his deeply bruised jaw, the other held steady out in front of him, his palm down, his fingers pointed at Ed, torturing him with an invisible spell, causing him to yell in torment, sweat beginning to bead down his twisted, agonized face. Never before had he felt pain this terrible, not even when he got his automail installed. It was as if the curse was combining different types of torture, physical and mental, for in the midst of his pain, dreadful images of his mother’s mangled body and Alphonse’s cold, timorous eyes evaporating into nothingness appeared before his eyes. Never before had the young Elric felt more intense of a wish to die than at that very moment of persecution.

Without another word, Quirrell lifted the curse, replacing his hand upon Ed’s steel prosthetic while the poor boy attempted to regain his breath. With his other hand raised above the arm, he effortlessly destroyed the automail, rendering Edward Elric practically defenseless. With one last evil smirk, the professor lifted the boy up by his shirt, relishing in the cringe plastered upon the boy’s broken face.

“…you should’ve let your brother be. It would’ve been better to leave him dead, so you would be able to see him after I kill you.”

“NO...” Voldemort hissed at the back of Quirrell’s head. “Potter has the Stone…Potter first, you fool.”

Quirrell nodded once and rammed Edward’s petite body into the stone wall, rendering him unconscious and bleeding profusely, before re-approaching Harry, who now found himself staring at the lifeless, bloody lump of Edward lying against the wall, fear setting in as his scar flamed up in one final burst of excruciation.

_Alphonse…_

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

_“Al.”_

_Sure enough, the small, emaciated figure lifted his skinny face up to Edward upon recognizing his name, and the sad sight of him made the older boy nearly choke on a sob. He took a hesitant step forward:_

_“Alphonse…I’m here. I’m here to bring you home.”_

_Al offered Ed a sad smile._

_“You can’t do that.”_

_“W-why not?”_

_Just then, then stone doorway of truth behind Edward opened up, and the black, smoke-like arms and hands reached out and grabbed him, dragging him back into the doorway, back into the cursed world. Ed struggled fiercely against his binds._

_“Al! Al, come with me!”_

_“I can’t.”_

_“AL!!”_

_But it was too late; just as Ed was engulfed within the door’s darkness; Al bowed his head solemnly, hopelessly._

 

~~*e.s.*~~

…

 

~~*e.s.*

 

Two golden orbs bolted open in horrific unison, and then began to rapidly blink as small beads of sweat trickled into their crevices, urging on more unwanted tears. Edward’s chest heaved, though with some difficulty; he could feel a sharp, piercing pain restricting his lungs from taking in their full capacity. He realized only after some foggy, stalled thinking that he was injured. Just before he could ask himself how he gained those wounds, however, everything came sweeping back in.

_Knew I’d be meeting you here, Elric._

_After all, they threatened you brother…and isn’t he the whole reason you’re here in the first place?_

_…What is he talking about, Ed?_

_You could make a valuable asset, you know._

_…you should’ve let your brother be. It would’ve been better to leave him dead, so you would be able to see him after I kill you._

Ed’s already haggard breathing became even choppier. _It would’ve been better to leave him dead_ … _to leave Alphonse dead_ …

“… _no…_ ”

“Ah. Are you fully awake at last, Edward?”

Ed jumped at the sound of the foreign voice, immediately regretting the sudden movement right after executing it.

“Oww…”

He looked up to see who his visitor was, and was met with the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore.

“Good morning, Mr. Elric. How do you feel?”

Ed slowly sat up from his small pile of pillows, wincing as the sharp pain returned. He blinked his eyes again, trying to pinpoint all of the places in his body that are injured.

“Like I’ve been hit by a train…twice.”

Dumbledore chuckled at the boy’s sarcastic comment. Ed yawned widely and observed his surroundings; he deduced that he was in the hospital wing, in bed with numerous bandages covering the injured places on his body, and a sling cradling his immobile automail arm.

“I fixed it as well as I could,” the headmaster explained upon seeing Edward examining his metal prosthetic. “I decided that it’d be best to wait for your mechanic to get here up before re-attaching the nerves.”

“...What? You called Winry?”

“Yes. She should arrive sometime this evening, and she is bringing young Alphonse along with her, for he wished to see you.”

Ed’s eyes were full of a mixture of fright and concern.

“You didn’t tell them about what happened, did you? Was Winry mad? She didn’t tell Al I was hurt, did she?”

“Calm yourself, dear boy, you are injured. Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out.”

At the sound of her name, Madam Pomfrey popped her head out of her office.

“Oh good, Mr. Elric, you’re finally awake.”

She shuffled over, grabbing a tall, white bottle and a small metal goblet on her way, pouring a serving for Edward.

“Drink this.”

Ed looked at her, uneasily sniffing at the potion. “What is it?”

“Don’t ask questions, just drink, boy!” the nurse snapped. “It will help to mend your broken ribs; I can only do so much with a wand, you know.”

Ed frowned but nonetheless downed the liquid, plugging his nose in order to take it in easier. It tasted more like carbonated pee than medicine to him, but he dared not inform Madam Pomfrey of his opinion. When she took the now-empty cup from his trembling hand, he raised his eyebrows at the fact that she had trouble finding room on the bedside table, for its top was completely covered with cards and candy.

“Tokens from your friends and admirers,” said Dumbledore, chuckling again. “What happened down in the dungeons with you, Harry and Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows.”

“Harry!” Ed exclaimed suddenly in a hoarse yelp. “What happened to him, where is he?”

“If you do not stop yelling you’ll wake him up,” Dumbledore said, gesturing to the bed to the left of where he sat. There Harry laid, sound asleep, with far less bandages and wrappings than Edward bore. The blonde alchemist sighed in relief; at least his friend made it out ok.

“How did we get out of there?”

“I was on my way to London when a certain little barn owl ran into me midair. I caught her before she fell—she was quite disgruntled, might I add—and read the letter she bore, which was from Hermione telling me about what was going on in the dungeons. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off of Harry, and then I saw you. You were unconscious, and there was quite a lot of blood coming from those cuts on your forehead and chest. I feared I might be too late; between your fight with Voldemort—oh yes, I know all about your alchemy, Harry told me all about that—and the effort Harry utilized to keep the Stone safe nearly resulted in both of your deaths. For a moment there, when I first saw you I was afraid you were already gone.”

Edward flinched, but this time it was not because of pain.

“So everyone knows.”

Dumbledore’s expression was sympathetic:

“No, Edward, everyone does not know.”

Ed raised an eyebrow.

“But you just said Harry told you—“

“All about your alchemy. He knew nothing about why you learned it and I kept it that way. I did not tell a soul about why you have two artificial limbs.”

“So they’re all going to confront me later about that.”

“I have left the decision to tell them about your past up to you and only you. It is pointless to keep your alchemy a secret anymore, especially since it has made you a hero. But the story about you and your brother is yours to tell, only if you wish.”

Ed nodded in understanding. He knew he needed to tell his friends, especially Harry. They’ve been through enough already; they deserve to know the truth, every bit of it.

“How long have we been in here?” he asked the bespectacled headmaster, who obliged to answer the boy fully.

“Today is the fifth day. Harry awakened two days ago, so you are a bit more behind the times than he is. Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have finally come round, they have been so worried.”

“They _have_?”

“Yes, of course. Every time they would come to visit Harry they would ask Madam Pomfrey about you, waiting to see when you’d wake up. There were a couple of instances when we thought you’d come around, but you were just stirring from a nightmare and you did not wake up completely.”

 _More like ten nightmares,_ Edward thought, frowning to himself. _Maybe it’s a good thing Al’s coming over; I need to see him again, to make sure he’s alright._

“I’m surprised at you, Edward.”

Ed looked up in confusion, urging a smile out of the old wizard.

“I’m surprised you haven’t yet asked about the Sorcerer’s Stone.”

Ed blinked, and then bowed his head in shame, unable to look the professor in the eye.

“Yeah…I just thought that it was a forbidden topic. Especially now.”

“It does not matter now,” Dumbledore remarked, “for it has been destroyed.”

Ed’s eyes widened in horror:

“ _Destroyed??_ Why?! How did—why— _how could you have let that happen_?!!”

“Calm down Edward, allow me to explain before you accuse me!”

Edward was seething with fury, his eyes blazing at the old man. His one way to fix Alphonse, _destroyed_.

“Are you ready to listen?”

No, he wasn’t, not at all. He was ready to strangle. But despite his anger, Ed locked his jaw and nodded, his eyes unblinking.

“Well, my friend Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed that it was for the best that the Stone should be destroyed, for an all-powerful object such as that one was too dangerous to exist, especially with a dark wizard like Voldemort after it. Though this means he and his wife will finally perish, he feels that to cease all of the troublesome things caused by the Stone is worth his death.”

“But…I _needed_ that. I needed it for Alphonse—you knew that, Professor, that’s the whole reason I came to this school!”

“No,” Dumbledore said strictly. “The reason you came to this school was to learn magic, Edward.”

“I don’t care about magic!” Ed exclaimed, tears stinging his eyes, threatening to come loose. “How could I possibly care about magic when my little brother is nothing but a suit of armor?!”

“Because there are other, more optimal ways to restore Alphonse’s body.”

Edward froze, taking in what Dumbledore had just said.

“Other ways?”

“Yes, Edward. Other ways far more…well, _humane_ , than to use the Sorcerer’s Stone.”

“Humane? What do you mean by humane?”

Dumbledore hesitated before finally explaining himself carefully:

“The way the Sorcerer’s Stone was made, Edward, was through a long, gruesome method of alchemy that I do not care to explain. The ingredients that it took to make it were extremely dark in nature…if you knew what it took to make a pure Sorcerer’s Stone you would not have ever considered even searching for it.”

“ _Pure_ Stone? Are you saying that there are _incomplete_ Philosopher’s Stones out there?”

“…yes, there are. They are not much different than the Sorcerer’s Stone in the sense that the use the same ingredients to make them, but they do not contain the Elixir in them and they are a bit dumbed-down in their alchemy-enhancing powers, if you will. They still work rather well and, as I’m sure you know, many of the world’s militaries have been caught secretly using them in alchemic combat.”

“Oh,” Edward said, acting as if he knew that when he actually didn’t. Obviously he would have had to do much more research on Amestrian war history before joining their military.

“But that is beside the point, Edward,” Dumbledore insisted. “You needn’t even consider the Stone to help Alphonse; there are other ways, ways you will learn about in your upcoming years at Hogwarts.”

Ed frowned at Dumbledore: “Why can’t you just tell me now so that Al can have a body during his first year here?”

“Because, unfortunately, you are not ready to know of that information just yet. Certain things require time to prepare their coming to be. When you are ready, you will know, Edward.”

“That’s not fair to Alphonse…” Edward muttered out of Dumbledore’s earshot. He knew he had no choice but to just listen to what the wizard said, for when Dumbledore has his mind made up on whether or not to tell about something, he will stick to it.

“Is there anything else you wish to talk to me about, Edward?”

Ed started to shake his head, but stopped. What was that thing that Quirrell did to him, back in the dungeons, the thing that caused him so much pain and agony?

“Yeah; back in the last chamber, Quirrell put some sort of spell on me that, I don’t know, tortured me…? What would cause that?”

Dumbledore’s expression became much darker.

“That, my boy, was the Cruciatus Curse.”

 _…Cruciatus,_ Edward thought. _That’s the_ _Latin root for excruciating; so it was a torture spell._

“It is an Unforgivable Spell; it causes the victim to suffer from every type of physical and mental torture that could possibly exist, all in unison. It is possibly the vilest of all curses, other than the Killing Curse, of course.”

“And so he used it on me not only to stop me from interfering with the Stone, but also to cause me extreme pain and suffering.”

He shuddered slightly as he recalled the horrific images the curse caused him to experience, ghastly recreations of when Al was taken away, his mother’s dead body, and a demonic version of Truth.

“What was the purpose of going to that extreme?”

Dumbledore shook his head.

“Good question…but that is yet another question that I cannot answer just yet. That in particular is something you will have to find out on your own. I’m sure you will in time, for it is practically the entire essence of your past.”

Ed frowned deeply; for some reason all of Dumbledore’s answers to his questions only make him more questionable.

“Alas, that shall have to be the last one. I suggest you make a start on these sweets, Edward.”

Ed laughed once, turning his attention to his mini candy shop with pleasure. As the headmaster turned to leave, though, Edward stopped him.

“Yes, what is it, Mr. Elric?”

“…Thanks for everything, Professor.”

Dumbledore just smiled as he exited the Hospital Wing.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Harry woke up about an hour and a half after Dumbledore left. When he saw Ed was finally awake, he did not say anything at first, waiting until Ed realized he was up. It seemed like forever when the blonde finally looked his way, unsmiling, as if he was afraid Harry would take it the wrong way.

“How long have you been up?” Harry said, being the first to break the awkward silence.

“Since about eight-thirty this morning.”

“Barely?”

“Yeah…I was pretty out of it.”

“So was I, don’t worry about it,” Harry said, laughing lightheartedly, causing Ed’s mouth to form into a small smile. Harry got a better look at Edward as he sat up and frowned; he was considerably more beat-up than him, but that’s not what he was looking at. No, it was the steel prosthetic that caught the young wizard’s attention. How did Ed manage to keep _that_ secret from everyone?

Edward saw him staring and chuckled once, very dryly.

“The truth is finally out, I guess.”

“Not exactly,” Harry replied, meeting Edward’s eye. “I have a secret to tell you, too. I kind of…no, not kind of…I did eavesdrop on you and Alphonse when he was visiting during Christmas break. I overheard your conversation, Ed, and I’m sorry. That was wrong of me to invade on your privacy. It was none of my business, what you and Alphonse were talking about.”

Ed’s eyes were wide.

“W-what did you hear?”

Harry bit his lip.

“…something about Alphonse being ripped away from the world,” Harry said softly, “and then you blamed yourself for the entire idea or something like that. I think…I think you were crying, too.”

Ed gaped at him, quickly gulping down the bile that had gathered within his throat before replying:

“I see.”

“I’m really sorry, Ed. I shouldn’t have—“

“Will you quit apologizing already?” Ed suddenly snapped. “It’s my damn fault anyway, for keeping all of that a secret from you, Ron and Hermione!”

Harry was silent; how was he supposed to reply to that?

“You all deserve to know; I’ve dragged you along my trail of lies for long enough. Al’s coming to Hogwarts tonight, and I’m going to assume that Ron and Hermione will come visit us later this evening, too. Then I will tell everyone about how I lost my arm and leg, and…about what happened to Alphonse.”

“Leg?”

Ed nodded, pulling up his bedclothes and then his pant leg, showing Harry his automail. Harry’s eyes widened:

“Did it hurt? I mean…when you got those?”

To his surprise Ed laughed out loud, a hoarse, sadistic laugh that made his blonde antenna bounce up and down.

“Hell yes it did! _Especially_ when the nerve endings had to be wired up and then attached to the prosthetics!”

He huffed, still smiling without humor.

“Doesn’t matter. I deserved that hell.”

Harry refrained from asking anymore questions after that; Edward had obviously gone through a lot, and the fact that he was unable to get ahold of the Stone in the end had made him even bitterer, by the looks of it. He wasn’t particularly irritable, but it was obvious that whatever he has to tell him, Ron and Hermione was going to be a great shock to all of them. Evening came faster than either Harry or Ed would’ve expected it to, but they supposed that between visiting with other friends and sampling all of their candy, the day flew by. Ed was relieved to see that Harry did not hold a grudge very long, and that every bit of distrust he bore the night they went after the Stone had disappeared. They were on better terms than ever now, but how long would that last, Ed wondered. Would Harry revoke their friendship as soon as he found out about Ed and Al’s secret?

Will everyone?

Winry and Alphonse were the first to show up, arriving whilst Ron and Hermione were having dinner, Winry looking both concerned and absolutely pissed-off at the same time. She politely introduced herself to Harry, her tone as sweet and amiable as ever, making Ed think that his beating would possibly be spared due to her apparently good mood…

“…And YOU!”

“Meep!” Edward cowered, scooting away from his crazy mechanic.

“How _dare_ you abuse my precious automail, Ed?? I worked so hard to make it just right for you, and just _look at it_! How did you manage to destroy it, anyway??!”

“I, uhm, well…Dumbledore didn’t tell you?”

“ANSWER ME, ED!”

Ed and Al visibly shook with fear; Ed had to struggle to clear his throat before feebly answering:

“…I kind of got into a fight with a dark wizard.”

Winry blinked, stared at him, and then—

BONK!! “ _YOU IDIOT_!!”

“Big brother! Are you ok?”

Ed cringed into his bed sheets, his hand gently grazing the throbbing bump on his head caused by the wrath of Winry’s giant wrench.

“Sheesh, woman, I’m already in the damn hospital!!”

“Oh, shut up, you dummy, and let me look at your arm!”

“Fine!” Ed snapped with finality, scooting over while the blonde mechanic grabbed a stool and opened up her tool bag. Harry had to swallow the laughter that threatened to bubble out during the comical scene of Ed being hit with a wrench. Alphonse came over to his bedside whilst his big brother got his prosthetic worked on.

“Are you hurt very badly?” the young boy asked the black-haired wizard, who shook his head.

“I don’t think so anymore; Madam Pomfrey, our school nurse is really handy with healing spells. I was out for three days, though, according to Professor Dumbledore.”

“Yikes! Were you also fighting a dark wizard?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, glancing over at Ed. “We we’re fighting the same guy, Ed and I. We had to keep him from a really important piece of magic.”

“The Philosopher’s Stone.”

Harry looked up at Al in shock, making the suit of armor back away from his bedside suddenly, shaking with nervousness.

“Was I not supposed to know about that??” the younger Elric squeaked, earning himself a look of confusion from Ed and Winry.

“Know about what?”

“The Stone,” Harry said, turning his gaze to Ed. “You told him??”

Ed gulped.

“Uh, yeah, about that…”

Harry sighed: “I guess it doesn’t really matter, now that it’s been destroyed.”

“What?!” Al shrieked. “What do you mean ‘destroyed?!”

“You all better hush up!” Madam Pomfrey barked from within her office, “or else I’ll have to kick you out!”

“Hey, I need my mechanic here, y’know!” Ed retorted.

“Not if she’s upsetting you; I’m more worried about your real body than your artificial limbs!”

Winry pouted at this:

“She didn’t have to go and say _that_ ; and I wasn’t even the one making the noise here…”

Alphonse looked back and forth between Harry and Ed.

“…Why was the Stone destroyed? What are we supposed to do now, Ed??”

“I don’t know,” Ed sighed in response to the second question. “And it was destroyed because the dark wizard we were battling was after it.”

“He wanted it to achieve immortality,” Harry explained. “Which would’ve been really bad news for the rest of the world if he managed to get it; he’s killed a lot of people before he got destroyed and will no doubt do it again after getting a body.”

There was silence in the room for a long moment after that. Everyone was thinking about the same thing, minus Winry who knew nothing about Harry Potter other than what she had just learned upon their first meeting. Alphonse only knew because of his Christmastime visit, but even then he couldn’t seize up just how much of a big deal it truly was. He was beginning to realize that Voldemort was much more of a threat than what he had initially assumed, however, since his presence resulted in the Philosopher’s Stone having to be destroyed.

“…How did you manage to get your arm put back together, Ed?”

Ed shook his head:

“It wasn’t me,” he explained to Winry. “Professor Dumbledore fixed it with some spell.”

“Not completely,” she frowned. “You can tell it was completely destroyed; there are bits of broken metal here and there, and that screw isn’t in right…”

Ed looked at her with concern: “Will it have to be completely rebuilt?”

“No, no,” she assured him. “I’m just going to do a good, quick polishing now and then re-attach the nerves, which is the one thing Dumbledore didn’t do. Other than that it should work just fine.”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly at that statement, and he hesitated before asking quietly:

“…Do you have to re-attach them one at a time?”

Winry paused in her polishing and looked back at him.

“What, his nerves?”

Harry nodded, adjusting his glasses; Winry smiled and shook her head.

“When he got the installation surgery the surgeon—my granny—wired the arm and leg according to how his synapses and neurotransmitters are made up, so that whenever we detach the arm or leg none of the mapping is lost, and we can re-attach it quickly and with ease…”

She paused in her explanation as she turned back to Ed, who nodded that he was ready, and then she snapped the arm securely back into its port. Ed let out a sharp groan of pain through his tightly gritted teeth when the nerves were hooked up to the arm.

“…just like that!” Winry finished cheerfully. Harry watched with awe as Ed began to wiggle his fingers and move his arm around, testing the signals in order to make sure all was functioning correctly. It was so mobile and flexible that he could even stretch it behind his back, exposing an artificial armpit full of wires and steel.

“That’s amazing,” Harry remarked. Winry’s smile grew as she thanked him, her eyes sparkling at the wonderful compliment.

“Everything working all right?” Winry asked Ed before dragging her stool to the other side of the bed so as to check up on his leg.

The doors to the hospital wing opened then, and in trod Hermione and Ron.

“ED!” they yelled in unison, running up to his bedside immediately.

“You’re awake!”

“How are you holding up?”

“Oh my goodness, look at your head!”

“Is that a _metal arm_?”

“Hey guys,” was all Ed could say in response to their uproar of questions. He offered them a friendly smile as he gestured towards Winry.

“This is my automail mechanic, Winry Rockbell,” he explained as said mechanic stood from her stool to shake Ed’s friend’s hands in greeting.

“Nice to meet you,” Hermione said politely.

“It’s good to meet you, too,” Winry replied amiably. She stowed her wrench in her bag:

“Ok, you’re good to go, Ed.”

“Thanks Winry; I owe you one.”

“Just don’t go breaking it again!!” she snapped harshly before swinging her bag over her shoulder, beginning towards the exit. “Now, where can I find some food here in this giant castle…?”

Upon her leave, Hermione and Ron turned back to Edward. No one spoke for a moment, and then Ron asked: “automail…?”

“Yeah,” said Ed, lifting his arm to show them. “That’s what this is called, they’re steel prosthetics.”

“But…” Hermione asked feebly. “How’d you get them?”

Ed’s face fell slightly, a dark shadow passing over his expression. He gestured for them to go ahead and sit down, at which Harry swung his legs over his hospital bed and sat at the edge, facing Edward whilst he began his explanations. Ed found himself to be absolutely lost, though; this was not in any sense of the word a simple thing to talk about, to tell close friends about. The blonde looked up at his armored brother for help.

“Where do I start, Al?”

“…I don’t know brother,” the younger Elric said. “Maybe you should start off talking about how we started learning alchemy, or around there.”

“…Right, I’ve got it,” Edward said, but paused before starting his gruesome tale, looking at his little brother with pity. “…you can go follow Winry to the kitchens if you want, so you don’t have to hear this again, Alphonse.”

“I’m ok, brother; I lived it, I can hear about it.”

Ed took a deep breath and looked his friends in their eyes as he began:

“I lied through my teeth when I told you that Al and I didn’t learn alchemy. The is completely opposite from that; we spent years studying in order to master the science, first from the things we found in our father’s old office, and then with an alchemy teacher. We didn’t go with her until after our mom died, though…we didn’t have a reason to until then. You see, the main reason we worked so hard to master alchemy was because…because……we wanted to bring our mom back to life.”

He paused here, expecting one of the trio to comment upon his last statement; but he three of them were silent, looking expectantly at him to continue.

“We spent about three years after she died focusing on alchemy, on how to bring her back. We developed a recipe and method of transmutation and managed to get ahold of all the ingredients it took to make a human body. We were all set; the transmutation circle was accurate and the plan was flawless; we never had any doubts……but the night we performed the transmutation, something went wrong. The resurrection failed, and when it did I lost my leg…and Al lost his whole body.”                                                                                                                                              

Hermione’s eyes widened in horror.

“W-what do you mean ‘l-lost his body?’”

“I mean—well—let me explain it this way; in alchemy, there are a lot of laws regarding what you can and cannot do in a transmutation, and the most important law out of all is the Law of Equivalent Exchange. This states that ‘Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return,’ which means that if you want to transmute something, you have to first have enough to compensate for what you’re creating. Which is why his Al’s got taken; in order for us to create a human being…well, you get the point. And I guess Al by himself wasn’t enough to recreate an adult, and that’s why my leg was taken as well.”

“Taken by what?” Ron questioned confusedly.

“…Truth. That’s what happens to alchemists who step into God’s domain, past the forbidden; they appear before an ethereal being that sits before The Gate of Alchemy, in something like another dimension, almost. I know this all sounds insane, but…this nightmare is completely true. I saw what lies beyond the Gate; I felt my leg be ripped away from me atop that human transmutation circle; the blood was as real as this automail is to you all…we were in Hell. The thing that we brought back didn’t look like our mom at all…it was a monster, a monster that we accidentally created, and it died soon after.”

At that point Ed was no longer addressing his friends but instead looking up at his suit of armor of a brother; now was the hard part to talk about, the part when Alphonse was damned.

“…Once that happened I was left alone in the room, crying for Alphonse. I took a minute to think of what I could do to bring him back, other than sacrifice myself…though I definitely considered that option, I knew that it wouldn’t do any good. I knew what it felt like to be left alone; I would never put him in that awful place. So I came up with the idea of just bringing back his soul, and binding it to one of our father’s old vintage armor. In order to bring back his soul, it took my arm.”

All three of them looked confused now.

“What do you mean you could only get his soul?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” piped up Ron, “I mean, isn’t he standing in front of us right now?”

Harry was silent, his own questioning silenced by the pained look upon Edward’s face.

“…Come here, Al.”

“’K,” the boy said, walking around to the other side of his big brother’s bed, where Hermione, Ron and Harry had gathered to hear the story. Knowing that Ed wanted him to do so before even being told, he sat down on the edge of the bed and removed his helmet. The trio let out a unison, equally shocked gasp.

“It’s empty!” Harry said, breathless with horror. “It’s…it’s just his voice!”

“Pretty much,” Al agreed, cradling his helmet within his leathery grasp. “I mean, I can move the suit around and stuff, and I can see out of it, obviously, but I can’t feel anything.”

“Nothing at all?” said Ron, to which Al shook his head, drawing forth a look of sad pity from the ginger. Hermione stood from her chair and hesitantly approached him. She peered into the dark cavern of his metal abdomen, looking both inquisitively and fearfully at Al’s soul’s seal.

“Is that how you…did it?” she asked Ed, her voice barely above a whisper. “With this symbol in here?”

 “Yeah; that’s what’s binding his soul to the armor.”

Hermione gulped: “It looks as though it’s drawn with…with b-blood.”

Ed nodded solemnly:

“It is. My blood.”

“Oh god,” she squeaked, her voice cracking as a few tears broke loose when she thought of the young Elric covered in the dark substance. Her bottom lip quivered with sorrow towards the boy’s predicament, and she suddenly hugged Alphonse tightly, stretching her arms around his big metal body.

“I’m so sorry, Edward, Alphonse! How horrible of a thing to happen to someone!” she wailed as Al put his helmet back on. Ed sighed heavily, and then gingerly scooted to the edge of the bed, where Hermione and Al were and gently placed a hand upon her heaving shoulder.

“…Don’t cry for us, Hermione.”

“Yeah,” Al agreed with his brother. “We deserved this for what we did.”

“Who could blame you, though?” Ron said, shaking his head. “If I knew alchemy and my mum had died, I would’ve done the same thing, Ed.”

“Same here,” Harry spoke, knowing in his head that was the truth. He knew what it was like to lose a parent, even though he was only an infant to witness his parent’s deaths. “And you can’t blame yourself for what happened to Al, either, Ed—and don’t deny it, because I know that’s exactly how you are feeling.”

“I wasn’t going to deny that; it is my fault.”

“Brother!” Al said in protest. “It’s your fault I’m still here, you dummy!”

“Yeah, but if it weren’t for my stupid idea of trying human transmutation, you wouldn’t be stuck in that stupid suit or armor.”

“Al’s right, Ed!” Harry backed up the younger Elric. “It’s not your fault.”

Ed looked up at them in slight surprise; they weren’t condemning him for his sins? They didn’t blame him for losing Alphonse’s body? They didn’t think he was a monster? _What_ …? Hermione sniffed, returning to her seat, her eyes slightly reddened due to her crying. Ron looked at him with the same pity Granny Pinako looked upon him with, the night Alphonse brought him, bleeding to death, over to her house. And Harry looked at him with the same fire Ed himself bore when he had decided to make things right, no matter what it took. They were all supporting him fully, all suspicions and distrust and even anger aimed towards him before converted to empathy and understanding. They finally got a glimpse of the real Edward Elric, and they did not hate him one bit.

“…I’m sorry I never told any of you this before,” Ed said, moisture threatening to gather beneath his eyelids. “I was wrong; all of the arguing from this year could’ve been avoided if I had just told you all the truth from the beginning. I was wrong to do that to my friends, and I’m sorry.”

Hermione smiled at him:

“Apology accepted a long time ago, Ed.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “It’s been accepted, ever since you save all our lives down in the dungeons.”

“That wasn’t me, that was all of us working together,” Ed pointed out. Ron shrugged:

“Same difference. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

“Voldemort probably would’ve killed me if you hadn’t attacked him just in time, Ed,” Harry informed the young alchemist. “Remember that.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Ed said, sticking his tongue out at the black-haired kid, not even bothering to mention the fact that he almost got killed in the process. Ron looked back at Ed’s steel arm.

“So how does that work exactly? Is it robotic or something?”

“Not exactly,” Ed said, laughing at the word ‘robotic.’ “It’s wired up to my nerves so that my brain can still send signals to move it anyway I’d like, even though it’s not a real arm. It works really well; I just can’t feel anything with it, I’ve completely lost my sense of touch there and in my automail leg too.”

“Well, that stinks,” Ron remarked, urging another laugh from Ed’s lips.

“Tell me about it!”

“And you both are alchemists?” Hermione inquired, to which Ed nodded. Harry cocked his head, looking toward Alphonse.

“Can you do that clapping thing, too, then,” he asked, “like Ed does, whenever he wants to use alchemy?”

“Ooo, can you show us??” Ron asked excitedly. “Harry told us all about how you fought You-Know-Who with it, Ed; I wanna see you in action!”

Hermione opened her mouth to argue over Ron’s lack of tact, but quickly decided against it, for she too was a curious kid that wished to see expert alchemy at work.

Al laughed:

“No, I can’t do alchemy without a transmutation circle like Ed, are you kidding? He’s the better alchemist here.”

“Am not,” Ed replied, crossing his arms at Al, who would’ve rolled his eyes if he could’ve. The blonde looked back at his friends and pondered the idea of a demonstration.

“I can, I guess,” he said, shrugging. “Here, help me get off this damn bed, Al.”

The younger Elric obliged, helping Ed stand. Once the alchemist was sure his legs would not fail him due to frailty, he loudly clapped his hands together and slammed them onto the linoleum floor. With a burst of lightning a tall statue appeared, neatly-carved and greatly resembling a taller version of Edward himself, complete with the antenna and everything. The trio before him ooooed, ahhed and clapped for the show, just as Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office and looked unhappily at the alchemist.

“You’re not supposed to be out of bed, Elric!” she snapped, wrinkling her nose at the statue. “And don’t transmute my _floor_.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, obviously trying hard not to laugh as he restored the tiles back to normal and crawled back onto his bed. Madam Pomfrey then switched her glare over to Ron, Harry, Al and Hermione.

“Just five more minutes, you three. Visiting hours are already long past over, you know…”

“That was amazing!” Ron exclaimed after the nurse had left their presence. Ed grinned at the compliment:

“Thanks, that was really nothing,” he said. “So fill me in, how much have we missed?”

“Well,” Hermione began, but was cut off by Ron—

“You missed the last Quidditch match; it was horrible! We were steamrolled by Ravenclaw because Harry was gone. Made me so mad!”

Ed rolled his eyes at Ron: “Is all you think about Quidditch-related?”

“Yes,” Ron replied, crossing his arms defiantly. Hermione also rolled her eyes before she spoke:

“All of the House points are in, and Slytherin won, of course. The end of the year feast is tomorrow, and you _must_ go, both of you. After all, you’re all the school’s been talking about for the past week.”

 _Great…_ Ed thought. _I can only imagine what kind of rumors they’ve all started._

“Plus the food will be good,” Ron pitched in, immediately sparking Ed’s interest.

“I’m in; I’ll break out of here if I need to!”

“Brother,” Al groaned. “You’re going to end up hurting yourself all over again.”

“Nonsense, Al; Pale-Face isn’t here, and I can take care of myself, y’know!”

“Pale-face?” Hermione questioned, to which Harry answered:

“Voldemort was pretty pale from being under Quirrell’s turban for so long.”

“Ew.”

“I know, right?” Ed agreed with the girl.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

“Aw come on,” Ed protested. “That was _not_ five minutes!”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s nearly nine, now OUT,” she said firmly. “All of you, Weasley, Granger, Elric.”

“Can’t I stay with my brother?” Al said, and the tone of his voice actually managed to be enough to softened Madam Pomfrey’s hard expression.

“Don’t you want to go find someplace to sleep in one of the dorms, though?”

“I don’t sleep, actually…” Al explained, to which Madam Pomfrey sighed and nodded once, allowing him to remain in the Hospital Wing with his brother for the night. “As for the rest of you, though, _leave_.”

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Harry fell asleep before Edward did, softly snoring beneath his bed covers. Ed glanced in his direction, turning his head on his pillow. Alphonse was seated next to him on a stool, reading idly through Ed’s alchemy book.

“…This really is an interesting view on all that we thought we already knew. I like it.”

Ed nodded and smiled.

“It helped me understand how alchemy is connected to magic, which helped me get over my mental block at the beginning of the year. You can borrow it; I’ve read it at least four times now.”

“We need to go back to that bookstore in Diagon Alley,” Al piped up. “Which, I guess we will be going there sometime over the summer anyway, to get supplies for my first year and your second year.”

He paused for a moment then, wondering silently over something. Even though he bore no facial expression, Ed could sense his little brother was troubled by something.

“What’s up?”

Al looked at him:

“…How am I supposed to wear a school uniform?”

Ed stared at him for a minute, and then he busted up, finding the young boy’s virtually unimportant issue to be hilarious.

“It’s not funny!” Al protested.

“Yeah,” Ed remarked, “which is why you’re laughing, too!”

It was true; Alphonse himself couldn’t keep from cracking up at his ridiculous concern. They quickly shut up when they saw Harry stir in his sleep, not wanting to awaken the exhausted boy.

“You should be asleep too, brother,” Al whispered. “You need to rest your injuries.”

“Yeah, but I can’t sleep,” Ed said, sitting up from the cushion of his pillow. “I’ve got way too much on my mind.”

“Like what?”

Ed sighed, shaking his head.

“Well, first of all I’m relieved; you know how hard it was to keep that secret all year? I kept accidentally slipping up.”

“Well, Professor Dumbledore did ask you to keep your alchemy a secret.”

“Yeah, but still,” said Ed, shrugging. “It would’ve been better for them to have known. It would’ve saved a lot of arguments.”

Al also shrugged, quietly examining an intricately drawn alchemical arrangement upon the pages before him, one that he recognized from one of Hohenheim’s books. Ed yawned hugely despite his insomniac claims. He couldn’t go to sleep just yet, though; he had something else on his mind, something that he had to tell his little brother before he conked out.

“…Alphonse?”

Al looked up:

“Yes, brother?”

Ed took a deep breath.

“Don’t get mad, but…I don’t think I’m coming back to Hogwarts next year.”

“What?? Brother, you can’t—“

“Yes I can,” Ed interrupted his brother’s protests. “There’s still the option for me to join the military, after all, and let’s face it, this school didn’t help me at all in trying to get your body back.”

“Dumbledore told you to wait and you’ll learn how, you told me he said that!”

“He also told me something else, something else I want to look further into.”

Al looked at him, listening carefully.

“He said that there are some incomplete Philosopher’s Stones out there.”

“Incomplete Stones?”

“Yeah…and apparently they work the same as the actual Stone did…so we may be able to use one of those to get your body back. Also, he pointed out that these Stones have been used in military combat before in order to increase the power of their State Alchemists. No doubt the Amestrian military has done that before, which means the State Alchemists have access to all sorts of information about the Stones. I would need to be part of the military in order to get ahold of one, which means I can’t go to this school anymore.”

“But…I was looking forward to going to Hogwarts with you, brother.”

Ed bit his lip.

“I know, Al, I was too. But you’re going to love this place with or without me, and my number one responsibility is to restore your body.”

Al did not say anything in reply to this, just sat quietly, not even reading his book. Ed yawned once again, then sighed heavily.

“Please understand, Al. I have to make everything right.”

“I think you’re making a mistake, though, Ed!”

“I don’t think I am.”

“Then I’m coming with you—“

“NO,” Ed suddenly exclaimed, then shut his mouth, glancing quickly over to make sure he had not awakened the sleeping Harry. “… _no_. I won’t let you; you know you’ve been looking forward to this school ever since Dumbledore visited us at Granny Pinako’s, Al. I’m not going to deny you this opportunity. You can always write to me, y’know, you’ll have Nova. But I don’t want you to give up your life.”

Ed could tell through the suit of armor that Alphonse’s invisible expression was crestfallen.

“…Ok. Whatever you say, brother.”

Ed looked at his brother, knowing that he was only covering up how he really felt about his decision, though the younger Elric knew that there was nothing he could do to change Ed’s mind. Ed scooted over as far as he could on the bed and then patted the empty space next to him. Al hesitated, wondering for a moment if the iron bed could handle the weight of a suit of armor plus two steel limbs, but ended up consenting anyway, sitting his big body next to his brother upon the bed. Ed leaned against his metal frame, his head tiredly rested upon Al’s side. It was just like when they were little, for Ed could not see Al’s armor, but instead looked up the soul within. His mind was playing tricks again, but instead of feeling hollow and forlorn towards the immaterial images, he embraced them, for he no longer knew whether or not he would have a moment like this with his baby brother again, especially if he was going to join the military. His entire life was officially uncharted when he made the decision to drop out of magic school, which is why he wanted Al to still go to the school even without him, just so he could have at least that much stability, the privilege of an education.

“Please,” Ed begged in a hoarse whisper to his brother. “Don’t be mad at me for this Al; everything I do…I do for you. You know that, right?”

Al nodded.

“I know, brother; you just risked your life for the Philosopher’s Stone, to get our bodies back. I’m just a little disappointed that we can’t go to school together, but not mad; not at all.”

Ed’s smile was interrupted by another yawn of exhaustion. He closed his eyes, his cheek pressed against Al’s cool armor frame.

“I missed you, Al.”

“I missed you too, Ed.”

“Are you going to tell them? Harry, Ron and Hermione?”

“That I’m not coming back here next year?” Ed frowned, thinking carefully.

“Yeah, I’ll have to. No more secrets from now on, remember? I’ll tell them after the feast tomorrow…they’ll be upset, but I think they’ll understand.”

“I’m sure they will, brother.”

“Yeah.”

And then silence. Ed’s breathing slowed a bit, eventually unintentionally matching the legato tempo of Harry’s. Al thought he was asleep for a second, but could tell he wasn’t yet after catching him softly clenching his automail fist.

“Brother?”

Ed reopened his eyes, yawning slightly.

“Yeah, Alphonse?”

Al looked with pity upon his big brother’s exhausted-looking face: “sorry, just…one last thing I want to say and then I’ll leave you alone and let you sleep.”

“Don’t worry about me, Alphonse; you know you’re not a bother.”

Ed sat up and leaned back against his pile of feather pillows as Al spoke:

“You remember Christmas break, when I came up to the school to see you? Remember the conversation we had in your dormitory?”

A dark look crossed Ed’s face and he silently nodded, urging Al to continue.

“Well, I have something to say that I should’ve said that night but I didn’t……neither of us are free from blame, brother. You may say that it’s all your fault that I’m like this now, but let’s face it. In reality, I’m the one to blame.”

“Al, no you’re not.”

“Yeah I am, because I didn’t say anything or do anything to stop it. Tell me this: if I didn’t want to help you try and figure out how to bring mom back, would you have still gone and done it without me?”

Ed opened his mouth to lie for his brother’s sake…then closed it. If there was anything he had learned during his first year at Hogwarts, it was that you get into far less messes by sticking to the truth.

“No. I probably wouldn’t have.”

Al nodded, carefully crossing his legs atop Ed’s bed so as to avoid hitting the injured Elric.

“But I didn’t protest, because I wanted to see mom again more than anything else. I just wanted everything to go back to the way it was when she w-was alive…”

Ed looked at his little brother with pain in his eyes at the sound of his quivering voice, knowing that if poor little Alphonse still had his body he would probably be crying right now.

“…Dumbledore told me and Harry something that last night we both went to see the mirror, something that I think would’ve been good for us to hear before we tried to bring mom back.”

“And what was that, brother?”

“That is does not do to dwell on dreams…”

Ed looked up at Al:

“…and forget to live.”

 

~~*e.s.*~~


	14. Last-Minute Points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all is wrapped-up tight and topped with a bow...A BOW OF SORCERY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling  
> all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

~Epilogue: Last-Minute Points~

 

 

Harry, Al and Ed made their way down to the end of the year feast only after being held up by Madam Pomfrey’s fussing about, insisting on giving them a last-minute check-up. The Great Hall was full and decked-out in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate their winning of the House Cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table. Ed’s ears were burning with people’s whispering about his automail hand—now ungloved, for what was the point in hiding it anymore?—and about his alchemy. He could tell by the looks on their faces that they were conflicted with wanting to ask him no doubt countless questions about both points; even Malfoy looked more curious than sniveling when the petite blonde passed him up on the way to his spot at the Gryffindor table. Even after he, Harry and Alphonse (with a little bit of difficulty considering his bulky body) slipped into seats by Ron and Hermione, people at other tables were standing up to look over at him.

“Hey Ed!” the Weasley twins greeted him cheerfully as he sat.

“Feeling better?” George inquired. Ed nodded:

“Tons better, thanks.”

“That’s great! I was wondering, though, I mean…Ron’s told us all about your, er, secret—“

“Say no more,” Ed said, laughing at the ginger twins as he pulled up the sleeve of his robe, exposing the length of his steel prosthetic. Not just the Weasley twins looked awed at the sight, but also several other Gryffindors who were equally curious about the false limb. Ed smiled at their praise and adoration.

Dumbledore arrived mere moments before the students began asking about how Ed got his automail; the excited babble died away as the owl on the headmaster’s podium opened up its shining brass wings.

“Another year gone!” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “And I must trouble you with an old man’s wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast.”

Al turned to his brother.

“Wheezing waffle?” he whispered confusedly. Ed shrugged.

“He’s weird.”

“What a year it has been!” the old wizard continued. “Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were…you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…”

“Now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding, and the points are thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two.”

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Harry and Ed could see Draco Malfoy hanging his goblet on the table. It was a sickening sight.

“Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin,” said Dumbledore. “However, recent events must be taken into account.”

The room went very still. The Slytherin’s smiles faded a little.

“ _Ahem_ ,” said Dumbledore. “I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…”

“First—to Mr. Ronald Weasley…for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house forty points.”

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, “My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall’s giant chess set!”

Harry and Ed looked at each other eagerly; if all four of them received enough points put together, their house could pull it off after all. At last there was silence again.

“Second—to Miss Hermione Granger…for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house forty points.”

Hermione buried her face in her arms; Ed strongly suspected she had burst into tears and patted her on the back. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves—they were eighty points up and rising.

“Third—to Mr. Harry Potter…” said Dumbledore, and all sound in the room lowered fifty decibels. “…for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house forty points.”

And with that even more cheers soared up into the air; forty more points and Gryffindor would be tied with Gryffindor. Ed high-fived Harry, who has smiling brightly at him and all of the rest of Gryffindor house. Beating Voldemort for a second time really did have some perks.

“Just a moment, all, I’m not done just yet,” Dumbledore said over the noise, his eyes also sparkling:

“Fourth—to Mr. Edward Elric…”

The room went deadly silent. Just what the headmaster would say about the mysterious alchemist, they all wondered.

“…for sheer drive and fearlessness in fulfilling your obligation not only to your friends, but your family, I award Gryffindor house forty points.”

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had Four hundred and seventy-two points—exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied up for the house cup—if only Dumbledore had given them one more point.”

Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.

“There are all kinds of courage,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom.”

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Harry, Ron, Ed and Hermione stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. He had never won as much as a point for Gryffindor before. Ed, still cheering, nudged Ron in the ribs and pointed at Malfoy, who couldn’t have looked more stunned and horrified if he’d just had the Body-Bind Curse put upon him.

“Which means,” Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, “we need a little change of decoration.”

He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall’s hand, with a horrible, forced smile. Ed grinned at this; despite what he had learned about the greasy, black-haired Potions master in the dungeons, he still did not like him one bit. In fact, he may actually despise him even more than before, if possible. Not that it really mattered, for he wasn’t going to have to deal with his tyranny anymore, for he was not to return to Hogwarts next year…

His smile faded, realization that he still had not told his friends about that yet hitting him square in the chest.

 

~~*e.s.*~~

 

Just as suddenly as they were packed the group’s wardrobes were empty, their trunks re-packed and Neville’s toad found and caged. Notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays (“I always hope they’ll forget to give us these,” said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; then they were boarding the Hogwarts Express. Alphonse was given a free ticket to ride back to London with Ed, where Granny and Winry, who had traveled back to Resembool right after fixing up Ed’s automail rather than staying the night as Al did, would meet them and take them back home for the summer. As they sped past Muggle towns and ate Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, Ed sighed.

“What’s the matter? You’ve been awful quiet,” Hermione inquired of the alchemist. Ed raised an eyebrow at her.

“We’ve only been on the road for half an hour.”

“Half an hour of you not talking seems like a lot longer, mate,” Ron said, right before spatting out a bean. “Anchovies; gross!”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “You’ve got something on your mind.”

Alphonse did not pipe up, knowing that his brother was going to have to talk to them on his own about leaving the school. Ed looked up at Harry and them.

“Ok…I’m not going back to Hogwarts next year.”

“WHAT??” the three of them screeched in unison, a bean tumbling out of Ron’s gaping mouth. Ed swallowed in order to keep from laughing at his red-headed friend.

“…I’ve decided to take a different path to find a way to get Al’s body back; joining the Amestrian military.”

“Joining the military?” Harry said.

“But you’re so young for that!” Hermione spoke in shock. Ed shrugged:

“They’ll take me; they have a really big need for State-certified alchemists, and I’m pretty certain that I’ll be able to pass their alchemy exam in order to get that certification. If I get it…I’ll have access to everything I’ll need to find a way to help you, Al.”

“I know, brother,” Al said, turning to also look at Harry, Ron and Hermione. “The State Alchemists have access to a huge amount of research and records, and not to mention other alchemists. Brother thinks that between all of that somewhere there is a sure-fire way to restore our bodies.”

“One that I couldn’t find at Hogwarts,” Ed agreed. Harry shook his head:

“But you _did_ find one at Hogwarts: the Sorcerer’s Stone.”

“But I didn’t get to use it, did I?”

Harry did not know how to respond to that.

“Exactly,” Ed said, sighing heavily. “I was kept from it. I can’t let that happen again; it’s not fair to Alphonse. The sooner he gets his body back, the better.”

“You too, brother,” Al pointed out, “’cause that automail is really hard on your body, too, y’know.”

“Heh,” Ed said, rolling his eyes. “Trust me, _I know_!”

“We’ll miss you,” Ron said sadly. “I mean, come on; who else is going to beat up Malfoy?”

“I pass that job off to _you_ ,” Ed said mischievously, earning himself an exclamation of disapproval from Hermione and Al. Harry smiled at his blonde friend:

“And maybe if you find out how to fix your bodies within the first year you can come back to Hogwarts?”

“I don’t know,” Ed said, “that depends on how flexible the military is. That would be cool if I could do that, though, I’ll look into it.”

“Well,” Hermione said, pursing her lips, “just make sure you keep in touch, alright?”

“You must come and stay this summer,” piped up Ron, “all of you—I’ll send you an owl.”

“Thanks,” said Harry gratefully. “I’ll need something to look forward to.”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed, “and let me know when you all go to get your school supplies; we could all go to Diagon Alley together.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said, grinning at Al. “You’ll be getting you wand this summer, won’t you?”

“Sure will,” Al said cheerfully. “I can’t wait; we’ll both keep in touch with Nova, I promise.”

“You got it,” Ed said in agreement, yanking the box of Every Flavor Beans from Ron and tossing a white bean into his mouth. He sat still and chewed on it for a moment, trying to place the flavor. The others watched curiously as he made a scene of doing so, his nose twitching every so often as his taste buds inquired further and further. Suddenly, he spat the bean out a leapt on top of his chair, pointing a quaking automail hand at the rejected bean.

“MILK! _BLEAGH!!_ ”

Needless to say most of the remainder of the train ride home was spent ridiculing Ed on how his hate for milk is probably why his stature is so small.

 

~~*ENTWINED.SORCERY*~~     


End file.
